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The snow has melted. It's a dark windy rainy Christmas Eve. I used to dread the days between Thanksgiving and New Year's Eve. Those days are gone. Now I experience late November and the month of December as a quiet peaceful renewing time, deeply grateful for the simple joys of life.
In my family, presents were opened on Christmas Day but in other families and in "A Child's Christmas in Wales," the presents are opened on Christmas Eve, as in this movie version of Dylan Thomas' prose piece:
"Go on to the Useless Presents.
... and a painting book in which I could make the grass, the trees, the sea and the animals any color I please, and still the dazzling sky-blue sheep are grazing in the red field under the rainbow-billed and pea-green birds..."
