Ever since I have, as it were, “hit” the double digits, things have never been the same. Still, the Holidays are what we make of them. And as for me and mine, we do so very greatly enjoy them.
The year our youngest daughter, Shelly, was four, she received an unusual Christmas present from “Santa.”
She was the perfect age for Christmas, able to understand the true meaning of the season, but still completely enchanted by the magic of it. Her innocent joyfulness was compelling and catching — a great gift to parents, reminding us of what Christmas should represent no matter how old we are.
The most highly prized gift Shelly received that Christmas Eve was a giant bubble-maker, a simple device of plastic and cloth the inventor promised would create huge billowing bubbles, large enough to swallow a wide-eyed four-year-old. Both Shelly and I were excited about trying it out, but it was after dark so we’d have to wait until the next day.
Later that night I read the instruction booklet while Shelly played with some of her other new toys. The inventor of the bubble-maker…
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