On Christmas morning, my Mam and Dad were downstairs shouting to me to look out the window. <br /> They’d shout, ‘There’s Santa.’<br /> Dad used to ring this bell and say it was one of Santa’s bells on the sleigh. I could hear Santa’s bells ringing as I jumped out of bed, really excited and I looked out the bedroom window in to the dark morning, fully expecting to see Santa and co magically flying through the air and maybe even he would spot me and give me a wave. <br /> ‘I can’t see him,’ I’d proclaim in sadness and then the bells would stop and I knew he’d have gone to someone else’s house, but I also knew that he hadn’t forgotten me.<br /> I’d run downstairs and in to the room whilst still in my pyjamas where the prezzies were. The excitement was unbelievable and my parents used to buzz as they watched my face beaming up at them in joy.