Christmas Eve of 2014. I look outside, and the snow outside sinks down like rain in April. This is my favorite time of the year—cold weather and family gathering in one place. My family and I stand in the kitchen making dough for Christmas cookies to leave out for Santa the next morning.

“Can you pass the red sprinkles?” my sister, Katelyn, asks as she reaches out her left hand while still using the green sprinkles in the other.

I trade her the green for the red, and finish designing my gingerbread man, and set him on the side.

My brother, Jacob, is the most creative with his cookie designs. Somehow, he turns a basic cookie in an interesting, impressive one.

I cut out another cookie into the shape of santa. I steal the red sprinkles back from my sister and sprinkle the sugar all over my cookie.

“Is everyone done?” my mom asks as she’s looking around at everyone.

We all nod, so she takes the cookie sheets and sticks them in the oven…

Beep, beep, beep. I hustle to the kitchen. I see a hint of brown, so I take them out and yell, “The cookies are done!”

Each of us has a cookie or two on our plates, and eat them until there’s only crumbs left. Special times like these are the kind of moments I remember.

It is Christmas Eve of 2014, and my family and I leave cookies out for Santa, while the snow outside sinks down like rain in April.