And way up in the sky the North Star is shining... over the lowly manger where a babe is to be born... a mighty saviour in the form of an innocent Christ child. And man will live forever more, because of Christmas Day.

Christmas eve is always magical. As we light the candles and sprinkle them with lavender oil, and my sister sings 'Jolly Old St. Nicholas' out of tune (she's been singing it out of tune for the last 13 years... and she turns 14 next year), and we wait for mum's relatives to arrive and I wonder if they'll notice that I've had a haircut (no one ever does) and we've placed the last of the wrapped presents under the Christmas tree (as usual we've forgotten to put name tags, so we're going to have to play guessing games later) and the Johor Laksa is bubbling in the kitchen (no, no stuffed turkey... we celebrate Christmas the Malaysian way...) and mum still hasn't unveiled what other culinary treats she has prepared, and we've taken out the Christmas cutlery and table mats and napkins (made shiny only once a year) and Dad is blasting Christmas carols for the entire neighbourhood to hear (not that I've ever heard the neighbours complain be it Christmas carols or 'the Eagles on Tour') and everything is just Christmassy.

Just Christmassy!

Merry Christmas Eve!