✴ Scarlett ✴
The smell of cinnamon, nutmeg, and freshly baked bread filled the house. It carried with it a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire that crackled in the living room. The Matthews family home had always been cozy, but on Christmas morning, it transformed into something magical. Like a scene from one of those classic holiday movies. I stood at the foot of the grand Christmas tree and marveled at its beauty. The tree was a tradition in itself. A massive pine that my father insisted on selecting every year. The tree would be hauled back home as if it were a personal victory. And it was. This year, the tree towered over us and nearly touched the ceiling. It was decked out in white and gold ornaments with ribbons trailing down its branches like shimmering waterfalls. Tiny twi
