Oakville Beaver, 18 Dec 2015, p. 33

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33 | Friday, December 18, 2015 | OAKVILLE BEAVER | www.insideHALTON.com You wouldn' t let Dad light the fire. "How will he get down the chimney?" you protested. And the logs. They should be moved. It wouldn't do to have a single obstacle in his path. The great man was bringing everyone presents. To slow him down was unthinkable. No, it wouldn't do at all. The cookies prepared and arranged just so. The hot chocolate, too. You stirred and you stirred and you stirred until the white and the brown ceded into one. Bubbles clung to the rim, gasped then disappeared, succumbing to the irresistible warmth. Now off to bed. A quick scan of the sky. He knew you were watching. Maybe this time he'd indulge you with a glimpse of his sleigh. Under the covers. Lights from the cars passing by on the street danced criss-cross along the ceiling. And then a single red streak slid by. Did you see that or did you dream it? Imagine: after the years, every thought reminds us that the most magical place on earth is always home.

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