Charlie and the Christmas Season

Having kids helps you to remember what it was like to be a kid. Christmas time is just magic. The expectation that precedes presents on Christmas morning is a bottomless well of hope ... you could be getting a pony, you never know what is in that wrapped package.

I recently remembered one time when the magic became real. I was an avid reader growing up, and my favorite author of all time was Roald Dahl, who wrote (to name a few) "James and the Giant Peach," "The BFG," "The Witches," and the pièces de résistance, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." We lived in Rexburg, Idaho, were the winters were long, icy, and painfully cold, so I had a lot of time indoors to pour over his books over and over.

One day I noticed in a Salt Lake Tribune my dad brought home from work, and advertisement for a live performance of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in Salt Lake City, a good five hours south of Rexburg. I came from a family of six, so we didn't generally get to ask for special trips, but I was so excited by the thought of seeing that book come alive on stage. I turned to my dad in the kitchen, showed him the advertisement.

"That would be fun!" he said. He bought tickets and reserved a hotel, (very unusual on our tight budget). We packed the Chevy van, drove clear to Salt Lake City, and saw the play. It was better than I imagined it to be. A story I loved came alive. That night was magic and has become the epitome of what Childhood Christmas is to me.

Thank You Dad!