Growing up, Christmas time was always special. Living in Washington, we always got a blanket of snow that would cover our forest we had in our backyard. All my family would come to visit, including my 26 cousins at the time. It was tradition that each family would bring a dish of food, but like all the kids thought in the family, dessert was what really mattered.

My absolute favorite was the pumpkin cookies my mom would bake every year for as long as I could remember. Baked to a soft, fluffy texture and covered in a smooth cream cheese frosting, they would melt into your mouth as soon as you took a bite. I always knew when my mom would be making these, because the house would be filled with a sweet pumpkin aroma and as you would smell them, they would pull you in. I would always sneak into the kitchen and try to get a taste of the uncooked batter, which always tasted the best.

Often times, my mom would lift me up on the counter and help me make them as long as I promised to not eat any of the batter or frosting that was being made. I usually broke this promise but she didn’t have to know that. After the batter was made and the cookies were in the oven being cooked, the frosting was next. Oh how I loved that frosting. I would have eaten it all by itself if my mom would have let me, which she never did. The thick cream cheese that was thoroughly mixed with sugar and cinnamon was absolutely delicious and the perfect amount of sweet. As soon as my tongue tasted it, my taste buds would dance. The timer would then go off on the oven, signifying happiness, and the cookies would be taken out and set on a cooling rack. They were baked to be light, fluffy, golden brown cookies. After they cooled, the frosting would be smeared on. To top it off a pinch of cinnamon would be sprinkled on by my mom.

By this time, you could hear my two brothers footsteps racing down the stairs, not being able to bear the wait any longer. My dad would be tending to the fireplace, trying to keep the fire going. We would all gather together with our cookies and milk and sit by the fire, watching the snow fall down on trees and the ground. Even though just cookies, they would bring family together and create the best feelings that we all shared.  

by MIKAYLA AYALA