It was Christmas Eve and we were at my grandparents cabin, were we where every year, I loved that place more than anything in the world, it was my second home. My favourite part wasn’t the meal or the presents it was the time we spent together on the hill with your toboggans, speeding down the hill, trying to find a way to go faster. It was alway the ten of us out there my aunt and uncle and their 3 children, my parents and my two siblings, and we always made the most amazing memories. We always got new tobogans and were adding to the collection, we had so many we had to chose which one we walked over to the big hill.
It was always just us on the hill, no one was ever around on Christmas Eve, it always felt like we where in the middle of no where and it felt nice to be isolated. Grandma and Grandpa would only come out for a little, it was always cold and to long for them outside. Aunt Claudia would never come out, she would always say that “it was to cold out for her warm Mexican blood,” she could never be outside for long then 15 minutes, which still makes me laugh. Her kids never stayed out that long either they would barely make the hour out outside and once they went in so did their dad, so there was only the ten of us left out there.
We would always go out around 7:00 pm, because it had to be completely dark, then we dress in many layers because being cold was always not an option, we would never want to go inside. We would spend hours on the hill, walking up and sliding down more times then I can count, we would go down in pairs, or we would race, or see who could the farthest at the bottom. Sometimes we would take a break and just play in the snow, having snowball fights, and it was always kids versus parents, we would hid on the other side of the hill/road in the bushes. Then we would go back to sliding because we where starting to get cold and the long walk up the hill would let you warm up. These moments made me feel truly Canadian, being on that hill in the cold making memories that would last a lifetime, and it is a Canadian way to spend time with your family.
After hours on the hill we would all be tried enough that it was time to go in for the night this would be around 11 that night, and grandma would have the hot chocolate made and in the snowman jug that sat on the counter keep it warm, we always added marshmallows, it may have been more marshmallow than hot chocolate. We would all sit around the table drink hot chocolate with anticipation for tomorrow, for Christmas until it was time to head home for the night and go to bed. We would pack things up the gifts and the leftovers to go home we where all tried t that time and dad would drive us home and by the time we made the drive home we would all be sleeping, and dad would carrying in my little brother. Those memories on that hill with my family we always be held dearly in my heart, they are a piece of me and the will forever be important to me. In these moments and memories I feel truly Canadian spending time like that on a hill in the middle of nowhere, it may be stereotypical, but it truly makes me feel like a Canadian.
