When I was a little girl, I remember bringing the Christmas tree into the house on Christmas Eve and leaving it completely bare for Santa to decorate.  When it was time for bed, and bedtime always seemed to come extra early on this night, we would scurry around, looking for the biggest stocking we could find to leave out on the back of the couch – we didn't have a fireplace to hang it on - in hopes that we would find it filled to the brim with treats from Santa in the morning.  Not everyone remembers that there was a time that we actually used a sock from our drawer.  This was a really long time ago, before the cute homemade stockings or darling store-bought ones that we have now.  It was hard to get to sleep on Christmas Eve and I never remember dreaming about sugar plums, but they were sweet dreams nonetheless.  In the morning, as we crept down the hall to the living room, we would come upon a wonderful, magical sight…the bare tree had been transformed and was beautifully ornamented.  The colored lights were glimmering in the early morning darkness.  The experience was quite miraculous, especially since "Santa" had so many children to take care of.  I never doubted his ability to accomplish the tasks.  I was sure that every child would have an equally wonderful experience.  I don't recall exactly when the changes came, but the