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Show 56 Santa Claus "Look!!" my oldest son is saying. He has just opened the front door to take the dog for his late-night walk, just before bedtime. We all obey the urgency in his voice and hurry to the front door which he is still holding open, allowing in the cold December air. "Wow!" our second son is saying. "Look at this!" says my oldest daughter. I am squeezing my wheelchair next to Hy into the open doorway. Sitting on our door-stoop is a shiny mauve bicycle with a tag naming her as the recipient, and next to the bike is a huge red Christmas stocking overflowing with brightly wrapped gifts. The children are pulling the stocking into the house, one on each side of it, dragging and pushing it into the front room with the tiny Christmas tree. Because we had just finished our Christmas Eve tradition and each had already given his or her small gift to the family member whose name had been drawn, there were no longer any gifts under it. There would have been one small gift for each of them in the morning. Our oldest daughter is straddling the bicycle, pushing it with her feet into the room. |