As a result, I'm just now getting my photos from Christmas loaded, and couldn't resist sharing a few of my favorite shots of my 1-year-old cousin Severin, just because he's so absolutely adorable.






Footprints in the first snowfall last year
It may have been 80 degrees outside the past few days here, but I’ve been seeing a lot facebook statuses about the first snowfall posted by my friends in other, snowier, places. This is going to be my first snow-less winter, and I’m a little sad about it.
When I was young the one thing I wished for more than anything else as this time of year rolled around was a white Christmas. Christmas was my favorite holiday by far, and not just because of the presents (although they were definitely a nice perk).
To me, Christmas meant snow and lights and Christmas Eve at my grandmother’s house with all my cousins.
It meant mittens and crisp cold air, decorating the tree and writing a letter to Santa.
Searching the house with my brother and sister for my mom’s gift list to see what presents we were getting.
Building structures out of the presents under the tree, including a fort for the cat.
Having snow battles with the neighbor kids.
Seeing Christmas lights glowing everywhere you looked.
Playing an angel in the Christmas pageant at church.
Standing with my cousin in front of my grandma’s big picture window on Christmas Eve with our noses pressed to the glass, searching the night sky for Rudolph’s red nose.
Night view of Radio City Music Hall at Christmastime
One of my most vivid memories from childhood, evoked every time I listen to the Oak Ridge Boys’ Christmas album (a family favorite), is of coming into the warm, bright house from the snowy darkness outside during Christmastime. The house would be lit up with lamps and Christmas lights everywhere, my mom would have the Oak Ridge Boys playing on the speakers and the smell of baking Christmas cookies would fill the air while I pulled off all my snow clothes and rushed into the kitchen to taste-test the warm gooey cookies fresh from the oven.
Although it has been years since I’ve done that, the memory lingers.
To be perfectly honest, I’ve been kind of a Grinch the past few years due to some family problems, and I’m not entirely sure why I’m suddenly so nostalgic now. Maybe it has something to do with being so far from my friends and family and everything I know. The exotically warm weather is just the most obvious manifestation of how different everything is for me now.
Now more first snowfalls for me, at least for the next two years.







By Francis P. Church, first published in The New York Sun in 1897. [See The People’s Almanac, pp. 1358–9.]
We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:
Dear Editor—
I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O’Hanlon
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.