Forty years ago tonight was the first Christmas Eve I ever spent with Livia. We had been dating since January of that year, and we'd gotten engaged in October. We weren't the sort to go out and party on Christmas Eve (we're still not), so we spent a quiet evening at her parents' house watching TV. All that was nice enough, but then something else happened that made everything even better.
It started to snow.
Now, a White Christmas, or a White Christmas Eve, for that matter, isn't unheard
of around here, but they're not very common, either. I wasn't really worried
about getting snowed in or not being able to get home because the temperature
was above freezing and for the most part the snow was melting soon after
hitting the ground. But the flakes were big and fluffy and coming down in a
veritable blizzard and turning the ground white for a little while, and as I
stood on the front porch with my arm around Livia and we watched that beautiful
scene, I think it was quite possibly the happiest moment in my life up to that
point. That glow remained strong inside me as I kissed her good night and drove
home in the snow a little later, after midnight so technically it was Christmas
I can feel it now, too, just like I did then. I always will. Merry Christmas,
everyone, and to all a good night.
Verdict: Mark Twain wrote some good stories
1 hour ago