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“Will he fit down the chimney?” a small voice with an accent asked.
“Mama, does he put out the fire?” inquired a 6 year old girl.
“It’s cold this winter papa. Do we have enough wood to stay warm?” asked a young boy as he looked up from his sleeping spot.
“That’s a large turkey! Will he fit over the open flames?”
“Johnny. Your new fire truck will not put out the flames.”
“Not too close honey. Your clothing will catch on fire.”
“Mmmm. I love the smell of fresh bread cooking on Christmas morning.”
“T’was the night before Christmas…”
“Sh. Grandpa has fallen asleep in his rocking chair.”
“I think I see footsteps in the snow.”
“And then there was the Christmas where we went by sled to Boston.”
“If it stops snowing will he be able to land?”
The fireplace stood snugly on the wall reflecting on the last 200 years of Christmases. It embraced each as special moments and cherished all who had called its hearth home. Each was special in its own way, different but unique. In the morning there will be another.
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