A Quote by Sheila Hancock

I do like Christmas but the build-up is ludicrous. Such a kerfuffle about two meals and a few presents. — © Sheila Hancock
I do like Christmas but the build-up is ludicrous. Such a kerfuffle about two meals and a few presents.
On Christmas morning, before we could open our Christmas presents, we would go to this stranger's home and bring them presents. I remember helping clean the house up and putting up a tree. My father believed that you have a responsibility to look after everyone else.
The way my family always did Christmas was on Christmas Eve, it wasn't really centered around a dinner on Christmas Eve. It was more about keeping the kids calm. Sometime after dark is when we were going to open all the presents underneath the tree from Mom, Dad and the kids and everything - just the family presents was every Christmas Eve.
The Christmas after Mom & Dad split up, they both went crazy buying us presents. Matt, Jonny, and I were showered with gifts at home and at Dads apartment. I thought that was great. I was all in favor of my love being paid for with presents. This year all I got was a diary and a secondhand watch. Okay, I know this is corny, but this really is what Christmas is all about.
When I was 12, all I wanted for Christmas was a trampoline or a four-wheeler. I ended up getting both presents for Christmas.
Growing up, Santa Claus would cover the presents with a white blanket, so when we'd wake up Christmas morning, we had to wait for my dad to do the big reveal of all the presents Santa brought.
I usually do quite well with presents, but the problem with Christmas is it's such a big build-up and such a big day that if someone tests you the year after, you've got no idea what you got.
She told me if I clean all the ashes out of the grate, then I’ll be able to help my sisters get ready for the bal.” “It’s Christmas, Dashiel. Can’t you give that atitude a rest?” “Merry Christmas, Dad. And thanks for the presents.” “What presents?” “I’m sorry—those were all from Mom, weren’t they?
There is something about Christmas that requires a rug rat. Little kids make Christmas fun. I wonder if could rent one for the holidays. When I was tiny we would by a real tree and stay up late drinking hot chocolate and finding just the right place for the special decorations. It seems like my parents gave up the magic when I figured out the Santa lie. Maybe I shouldn't have told them I knew where the presents really came from. It broke their hearts.
Children in my family really look forward to Christmas presents and I enjoy becoming their Santa, eating chocolates, playing and spending some time with them. I also meet up with some of my close friends to have good food. That's all about Christmas for me.
My grandparents, one Christmas, they did not have anything. They did not have money to buy presents. So my grandmother went to the orange tree outside her home, and so her boys did not go without for Christmas, she took oranges to her sons as presents.
There's a schizoid quality to our relationship with animals, in which sentiment and brutality exist side by side. Half the dogs in America will receive Christmas presents this year, yet few of us pause to consider the miserable life of the pig - an animal easily as intelligent as a dog - that becomes the Christmas ham.
It is surprising that people are snapping photos and stuff and then putting them on the internet. For me, it is like, "Why would you want to do that?" It would be like knowing what your Christmas presents were before Christmas morning.
Waking up to you is like... presents on Christmas morning." His mouth curved. "For your convenience, I'm already unwrapped. Batteries not required.
I grew up poor, but I didn't really know it because of amazing places like the Salvation Army where we got a lot of our Christmas presents from.
I was one of those goofy kids whose year narrowed down to focus on Christmas from about September on. I guess I was like Ralphie in 'A Christmas Story,' in that I would get swept up into the anticipation of the holiday, watching the lights go up, hearing the songs in the stores, getting special Christmas issues of comics and all that.
One Christmas I had no money, and so I went home and just, like, wrote a poem; I mean, I didn't write them, but I just handed out poems as Christmas presents. Like, 'Here's a Pablo Neruda poem that really made me think of you.'
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!