Wee Hours Before Christmas

There is nothing like the fire that lights a child's eyes when they are first to reach the room where the Christmas tree sits. Boxes, in bunches, gather round the tree like familiar friends, waiting for their labels to be read, their contents to be shaken, and their wrappers to be torn.

No, there is nothing like it in the world. I would suppose that the only thing that comes close is a young bride on a wedding morning.

And so it was...