World of Wonders

It was the Christmas when I was six years old, and when a boy is six years old it seems like Christmas will never come, and when it comes there seems no way it will bring with it snow, and if there is no snow, then where will Santa land his sleigh and team?

But that particular year, on the eve of that particular Christmas, the sky was filled with clouds, and the air was crisp and cold, the kind of crisp and cold that made my breath appear as a cloud before my face and so my young father said it was so cold that our words might freeze in mid-air if we dared to speak even the words “Merry” and “Christmas.”

Quietly we walked home from the store where my father had bought a quart of egg nog and Christmas cookies — and quietly we walked up the…

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