It was Christmas Eve, and the Johnson house was filled with warmth and the scent of cinnamon. The twinkling lights on the tree danced to the rhythm of holiday cheer.

Little Emma, with her wide eyes and giggles, was helping her mother, Mary, place the last presents under the tree.

"Are Grandma and Grandpa here yet?" Emma asked, bouncing on her toes.

"Almost, sweetie," Mary replied, brushing her daughter’s curly hair from her face.

"They'll be here any minute."

Just then, the door creaked open, and in walked Grandma and Grandpa, their arms full of gifts wrapped in bright, shimmering paper. Emma dashed toward them, her laughter filling the room.

“Merry Christmas!” Grandpa boomed, hugging her tightly. "Now, are you ready for some Christmas fun?"

The family gathered around the fire after dinner, their bellies full of turkey, roasted potatoes, and Grandma's famous Christmas pudding. Emma jumped onto her father’s lap, snuggling under the soft blanket.

"Can we sing carols now?" Emma pleaded with her big, bright eyes.

With a smile, her father nodded. Grandpa grabbed his old guitar, strumming the familiar chords of "Silent Night." Everyone joined in, their voices blending together in perfect harmony. Even Grandma, who swore she couldn't carry a tune, hummed along with a grin.