A card for my six most precious gifts

Every year, my wife designs our Christmas cards and adorns them with photographs of six young faces. I'm not as inventive as JoAn, so I'd like to take this opportunity to write my own Christmas card to those six little faces: our grandchildren.

Kelsey, the firstborn, beautiful from your first breath, smart and outspoken. Colten, strong, handsome and artistic. Madison, born without the fear gene, unafraid of anyone or anything. Emily, gifted with a smile that lights up the darkest room. Karson, so full of imagination that the simplest act becomes an adventure. And Camden, the youngest, loving and boisterous, with a heartfelt greeting that warms us when we enter a room. To all of you, here is my Christmas card:

Since your birth, every day has been Christmas for us. We will never outgrow that feeling, and I don't want you to think you can ever outgrow Christmas.

I hope this time of year means as much to each of you as it did to us when we were your age. I want you to keep it close to your hearts, even when you are grandparents yourselves.

This is a magical time, a season of wishes and hopes and prayers. And lots of hugs and kisses. We will always want your hugs and kisses.

I hope that at least once before you grow up, you have a hand in picking out your Christmas tree in the woods. A real tree, green and fragrant and sticky. Don't let your parents do all the decorating, either. Some of those ornaments have special meaning and should be hung with thoughts of the history behind them.

On Christmas Eve, I want you to stay awake as long as you possibly can. Try to bubble with excitement, OK? Envision the sugar plums. Sleep can wait. I know this comes with the territory when you're a child; I just don't want you to ever think it is childish.

I hope you wake up early on Christmas morning. Go ahead and consider staying under the covers until the sun comes up. After a nanosecond of consideration, dash out of bed and head for the tree. Your grandmother and I remember that mad last- minute anticipation, and we want you to relish every minute of it.

Have fun with your presents. Never be afraid to play, to get down on the floor, to lose yourself in a world of fantasy. You will never be too old to dream. I speak from experience.

I hope you find at least one book among the toys and games and clothes. Treat it like the passport it is. Let it carry you away to places no one else has ever been.

As you survey all you have received, start thinking about what is behind those gifts. Appreciate the people who gave them, and ask yourself why these people tried so hard to make you happy. Love, maybe?

If you haven't already begun making or buying gifts for your parents, start thinking about it. They will value your gifts above all others. Watch their faces as they unwrap the presents you gave, and perhaps you will begin to understand what this season of giving is all about.

You do not yet realize it, but giving truly is better than getting. One day, sooner or later, your Christmas joy will shift. You will walk into a store and, instead of longing for some trinket for yourself, you will imagine how much a loved one would like to find it on Christmas morning. Wrapping presents will be more fun than opening them. (OK, don't believe me now, but someday you will see.)

Finally, I don't want you to ever forget about the original gift that made this season possible. Read about it, think about it, keep it first and foremost.

You're all growing up too quickly. Remember, though, that just as you can never travel so far that you won't feel our love, neither will you ever grow too old for Christmas.

Reach Glynn Moore at (706) 823-3419 or glynn.moore@augustachronicle.com.