Christmas Magic

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon. We were driving to the beach, ready to enjoy the sun, waves, tide pools, and if we were lucky, monarch butterflies. I looked out the window; we were surrounded by thousand and thousands of trees. Varying in size and shape, they blurred into a hodge podge of green as we sped down the highway. We slowed down and the colors began slowly separating back out into trees, none of which I could name. I looked up and smiled with excitement as we began exiting the highway, we were almost there! I bounced on my seat, ready to see the familiar blue of the ocean on the horizon. It was nowhere to be found.

“Aren’t we there yet, daddy?” I asked, confused.

He shook his head, “Not yet, but we’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”

I looked over at my brother, “Look, we’re almost to the beach! Aren’t you excited?”

He looked up from his game, “No, it’s cold outside. Look.” He pointed to the trees waving in the wind.

I frowned at him and turned to look out my window. Suddenly my eyes opened wide. There were baby Christmas trees growing by the side of the road! I hurriedly began rolling down my window, wanting to smell ‘Christmas’. I drew in a deep breath and waited for their spicy scent to hit my nose. Nothing. I frowned and drew in an even deeper breath, closing my eyes to concentrate on the smell. I couldn’t smell anything!

Horrified, I turned to my mom, “Mommy, I can’t smell the Christmas trees!” I cried.

“Hmm?” She said, drowsily turning around to look at me.

I pointed to the tiny trees growing in the thousands outside my window. “I can’t smell the Christmas trees.” I repeated, shock beginning to fill me.

“Your nose is probably still a little stuffed up from that cold you had.” She told me with a smile, before turning back around in her seat.

My mouth opened in shock. My nose was broken? Was that even possible? I had returned to school, and could taste my food, so why was my nose still not working? More importantly, would it be broken forever? I could feel the anxiety building up in my stomach at the possibilities. I opened my mouth to begin voicing my questions when my brother interrupted me.

“You mean you can’t smell the trees? What about the beach—can you at least smell the ocean?” He asked me with a smirk. Breathing in deeply, he called out, “The beach smells great, doesn’t it dad?”

“Yep. Did you know the smell of the ocean…”

I stuck my nose next to my open window and surreptitiously breathed in, tuning out my father’s explanation of something I would never be able to enjoy again. Once again, I was unable to detect any difference in scents. Maybe, I silently told myself, just maybe we were too far away from the trees and beach for my nose to work. Maybe it was only a little bit broken, and once we arrived at the beach the smell of the trees and the ocean would be strong enough for my nose!

I waited in anticipation for us to park, flinging my seatbelt off and running out of the car. I pointed my face towards the ocean, breathing in. I tried to remain calm, we weren’t at the beach yet, so the smell was probably faint for people who didn’t have broken noses anways. I bent down, pretending to look at a bug while putting my nose to a flower. I frowned at it, it had no smell! I decided that the problem wasn’t my nose; it was just that the flower was too small to smell. Running over to a Christmas tree just about my height, I ran over and hugged it, burying my face in its branches. I breathed in and smiled. There! It was faint, but I could smell it. Spicy but fresh, like I was standing in a forest.

I ran back to the car, “I could smell that Christmas tree!” I told my mom, pointing to the tree.

She looked over and gave a little laugh, “Honey, that’s not a Christmas tree. It couldn’t smell like a pine tree. You probably just wanted to smell it so bad that you convinced your mind you could smell it.”

I faltered for a moment. Your mind could do that to you? That wasn’t very nice. “Oh, well doesn’t the ocean smell awesome?” I lied, forcing myself to paste a huge smile on my face.

She gave me a distracted nod, trying to hold my brother down so she could put sunscreen on his squirming body.

If I couldn’t smell anything, maybe my mind would help me pretend. It would be my secret from the world, I bravely told myself. After all, I could sort of smell Christmas, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t smell anything ever again. I was a big girl, I could take care of myself, I chanted while walking down to the beach, following my family. I turned around and gave my fake Christmas tree a determined nod. Don’t worry Christmas, I will always be able to smell you, I promised.

When Christmas rolled around that year, I grinned, a conspirator’s grin, at our tree whenever I walked by it. My nose had magically healed itself, and I was able to smell everything again! It was a Christmas miracle, I decided with a smile and small sniff.