I got a lot of nice things for Christmas: a Best Buy gift certificate, tickets to the Jayhawks game this Thursday, new clothes, and the Ramones' Rocket to Russia CD. I have no complaints. The best gift of all was a moment I shared with my three year-old daughter. It was Christmas eve and I sat down at the foot of the stairs and lifted her on to my lap. She let me hold her close. She didn't squirm. We talked of Christmas magic in hushed but hopeful tones. She shared her personal sugar plum visions in that faux three year-old whisper that an entire room might hear, but nobody else did. There were no other household concerns. It was a moment frozen. I'll remember it long after the other gifts lose their holiday luster.
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