each christmas eve and read twas a night before christmas to us and i grew to love it; so much so that i would take the book out several times during the year and read the poem trying to hold onto the magic and joy of the season.
it’s still my all time, most loved, favorite poem. i now have my own copy of it, but it is a golden book that i was given; not new but second hand and already dog-eared and worn. today the covers are no longer bound to the pages, and it feels ever so fragile that i dare not turn the pages for now they 