The morning began with excitement buzzing in every corner of the house—and just a bit of chaos.

Four suitcases were zipped, double-zipped, and sat-on-zipped. Three tote bags were stuffed with snacks, chargers, and emergency wet wipes. Abbey checked the train tickets (again), while Becky wrangled Ruby into her Minnie Mouse hoodie. She was four years old, practically vibrating with excitement, and already halfway out the door.

“Mum!” Becky called down the hall. “Ruby’s trying to bring all her teddies again!”

From the kitchen, Lynne called back calmly, “Pick two. The others can go on holiday in her room.”

They left Doncaster with coats buttoned and cheeks already pink, headed for London with travel mugs of tea, a playlist full of Disney songs, and a very important question from Ruby every six minutes: “Are we there yet?”

By the time they reached the Premier Inn, the excitement had turned into something quieter, softer—like the hush of snow right before it falls. Ruby jumped on the bed pretending it was a trampoline. Becky took a thousand photos already. Abbey sat by the window with her legs crossed, just watching them all with a grin. It hadn’t even started yet, but somehow it already felt perfect.

The next morning came fast. Not because they were up early, but because none of them really slept. The magic was just too close.

At the Eurostar station, Abbey clutched the travel folder like her life depended on it, while Lynne passed out pain au chocolat and Becky tried to reason with a very determined Ruby who wanted to wear her snow boots and her slippers at the same time.

The train felt like a gateway between two worlds. Ruby glued herself to the window and narrated the entire journey: the tunnels, the clouds, the trees. Abbey leaned into her seat and let herself exhale for the first time all day. Lynne, ever-prepared, pulled out little chocolates shaped like stars. Becky just shook her head, smiling. “You’re unreal, Mum.”

And then—there it was.

They stepped off the train into the crisp Paris air, and the world sparkled.

The check-in desk at Newport Bay Hotel looked like something out of a Christmas film. A towering tree glittered behind them, wreaths and fairy lights draped every banister, and Ruby twirled in the middle of the lobby like it was her own personal ballroom.

Their room had a view of the lake, and as they pulled back the curtains, Becky whispered, “We’re really here.”

Still bundled up, cheeks tingling from the cold, they barely dropped their bags before heading straight into the park.

And just like that—the Christmas parade began.

Music filled the air. Snow bubbles floated like magic. Elves danced. Mickey and Minnie waved in festive costumes. And Ruby? Ruby stood frozen in awe, hands clenched over her mouth, eyes wide as snowglobes.

“Look!” she gasped. “It’s Minnie! She waved at me!”

Becky lifted her up to see better. Abbey recorded everything, not just with her phone, but in her heart. And Lynne—sweet, steady Lynne—just stood behind them, soaking it all in, watching her girls experience something unforgettable.

They didn’t rush off to rides right away. They just stood there, together, watching the parade go by, wrapped in scarves and each other’s laughter.

Later, they’d dance through the castle, sing along on the teacups, and eat too many Mickey-shaped waffles.

But for now, Ruby’s voice rang out, soft and certain:

“This is the best day of my whole life.”

Abbey reached for Becky’s hand, felt Lynne’s presence warm and close beside them, and smiled.

“It’s mine too,” she whispered.

And the magic—real, bright, Christmas-coated magic—kept going.