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Aiden thought his grandmother's kitchen was a magical place. That afternoon, after a snowball fight with his cousins, Aiden sat in a corner out of the way and watched, fascinated, as his grandmother took ingredients and turned them into various treats to celebrate the holiday season.
She hummed as she carefully cut cookie dough into various shapes, laid them out on two well-used sheet pans, and put them in the oven.
As she closed the oven door, she glanced at him and smiled. "Aiden, baby, would you like to help with the cranberry sauce?"
Aiden eagerly nodded and stood, thrilled to participate in the kitchen magic.
"Be careful, now," she admonished. "It's hot and sticky."
Aiden took the offered wooden spoon and carefully stirred the bubbling mixture.
After finishing the sauce, the cookies were ready. Aiden sat at the big wooden kitchen table with an assortment of colored frostings and decorated cookies shaped like ornaments, gifts, reindeer, and Santa.
"What do you think?" Aiden asked, holding up a cookie.
"Very festive, dear. Everyone at the party will love them."
Later, Aiden watched his family enjoying the cookies and felt a bubble of happiness.
This was the real magic, he realised.
The Festival of Light was a magical time of year. Teyla loved making strings of cranberry-colored shrubberries and paper ornaments and then helping her father hang them from their tent.
This holiday season would be different, she knew. It was the first festival her father would not be with her to celebrate, having been culled several months ago. While the other children eagerly discussed their plans for the annual party, Teyla huddled on a chair beside Charon.
"Come here, child," Charon said kindly. "You can help me with the snowball punch."
Teyla stood and shuffled over to Charon.
Charon handed her the long spoon and placed a stool beside the wood stove. "You must stir constantly, or the punch will scald or be lumpy."
Teyla nodded and dutifully stirred the thick, creamy punch.
"I miss him too," Charon whispered. "But we must go on."
Teyla felt a lump forming in her throat at the mention of her father.
"The first year is always the most difficult," Charon told her, wiping away the tears running down Teyla's cheeks. "Your father was so proud of you. We will remember and honor him at the candle lighting. That is your gift to him."
Ten-year-old John watched, wide-eyed, as the household staff turned the ballroom into a magical wonderland. The annual Sheppard Christmas party was always the highlight of the season. At least, that's what his father told him. He and David were always banished upstairs, allowing the adults to celebrate in peace.
"Come along, John," Sally said, herding him away from the door. "You can help me decorate your tree."
John followed Sally upstairs and down the hall to the playroom, where a bare tree waited in the corner.
Sally held up the spool of lights and turned to John. "I think you're old enough for this job this year."
John beamed. "Really?"
Sally smiled and handed him the spool. "Make sure there are lights on each branch."
John nodded and carefully strung the lights around the tree. Next came the cranberry garland, and finally, the best part: hanging the ornaments.
Sally opened the box and handed John the big satin balls that always reminded him of snowballs.
"That looks perfect," Sally said once they were done. "All ready for Santa to deliver his gifts. Your father will be proud of you."
John smiled but knew his father would never see the tree.
"Magical time of year, right," Rodney grumbled as a snowball hit him in the head.
"What's the matter, genius?" Barry Hollister sneered. "Not so smart now, are you, McKay!"
Rodney turned and caught a second snowball in the face.
Hollister roared with laughter, readied a third snowball, and gazed at him with a predatory smile.
Rodney turned and ran. By the time he reached home, he was out of breath and was sure his face was as red as the cranberries in the wreath hanging on the front door. He took several deep breaths, and once the stitch in his side eased, he entered the house.
"Look at this mess," his mother complained, pointing at the puddle at his feet.
Rodney started to explain, but his mother shook her head and pointed at the stairs. "Just go. Your father's company party is in two hours."
Rodney grimaced but knew better than to say anything. The party would be boring, but for one evening, his parents would pretend to celebrate and enjoy the season and not spend it arguing. He glanced at the tree with its impersonal glass ornaments and trudged up the stairs.
He'd take whatever gift he could get.
The Christmas season was a magical time, John thought as he entered the conference room.
Teyla stood in the middle of the room, directing Ford as he hung strings of some sort of cranberry-like fruit around the room.
Rodney sat next to a small tree decorated with hand-made ornaments, fiddling with one of the gifts under the tree.
"Stop shaking the presents, McKay," John admonished.
"I, umm, wasn't doing anything," Rodney replied with a guilty start.
"Major," Teyla greeted. "You are just in time to help." She handed John several large paper decorations that looked like giant snowballs.
John hung the decorations where Teyla indicated and nodded. "Looks good."
"Now we can have our party!" Ford said and grinned.
John glanced at the table and smiled when he saw a plate of decorated cookies and a large bowl filled with a creamy liquid.
"It is called snowball punch," Teyla said, offering John a cup.
John took a sip and looked up in surprise. "It tastes like eggnog. It's good!"
Teyla smiled and offered a second cup to Rodney.
"Merry Christmas," John said, holding up his cup.
This was the way to celebrate Christmas, John thought, watching his team. With family.