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December 20, 2008
We rarely used our grandparents’ front door. We came in the back door, which led through the porch to the pantry and then to the kitchen, where there were always cookies. But at Christmas time, we’d peer through the glass in the front door at the great Christmas tree in the town square. I still remember being in my pajamas, pressing my nose against the cold glass to get a better look at the tree lit up at the end of the street. It was far more magical from a glassy distance, at night, than up close during the daytime.