An Essay About My Christmas Tree

Growing up I was always a family boy who loved holidays like Christmas; not only because it was the birth of Jesus Christ, but of course because it meant presents. My parents spoiled me and the fact that my biological parents were separated meant that I had two Christmas’s, so of course I always wanted tons of gifts when that time came around. I would put ridiculously expensive things at the time on my Christmas list like a Play Station 3, an iPhone 3GS, a $200 skateboard, and many other things that I knew my parents couldn 't afford, but somehow managed to appear under the Christmas tree. Every year it was something new, something bigger and better that I just had to have. My step dad who raised me from the time I was about 4 always

She always focused on the positives and never the negatives, and always seemed motivated, ready to conquer each day. The smile on her face would make you instantly smile back as if you couldn 't control it. The glow in her eyes made it clear that she would do just about anything for you. She never quit, and always taught us to never quit, even when times get tough. But the best moment of all was when my mama whispered “I love you,” because you knew it meant so much more than just 3 words. Although I loved my parents dearly, I was always that spoiled little kid who wanted everything, but it wouldn 't be until my mother found a lump in her chest that made me realize how meaningless materialistic things were. Worried sick the only thing I could do was pray. I cried myself to sleep every night imagining what it would be like without my mama. She was everything to me, and to lose her would mean to lose the world. When I thought about her, I forgot about the stuff I got for Christmas because those things didn 't hold you at night, or comfort you when you were down. They didn 't give you advice or wisdom, or tell you they love you, but rather demand to be loved. Material objects only mattered when you took relationships for granted. Seeing my mom in a hospital bed gave me a resentment toward those materialistic things because not only did they diminish the love I had for my mother, but they in fact secluded me from the