The smell of burning wood seeps through the dorm window. I stand on my roommate’s bed to pull the window down and stick my nose against the clawed screen. I close my eyes. My memory transports me to my living room at home in California. The slanted Douglas fir tree shines with colorful Christmas lights and decorations collected throughout the years. The glowing angel stands proudly at the tip of the tree. The fireplace crackles as my dad arranges the burnt wood to make room for the new. My mom and sister bring sweet potatoes and potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil. I grab the tongs from my dad so that I can put in the wrapped potatoes. After I am finished with my small yet important task, I plop onto the couch. I doze off listening to "White Christmas" before I get a chance to eat my sweet potato.
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