Its Christmas morning, 2010. We’re still in our jammies, our presents have been opened, and our tummies are starting to rumble. We load the high chair into the Subaru and drive past City Park to the beautiful Hammil House. Dan and Amy Beck, also in jammies, greet us with great big Christmas hugs. The house smells like freshly brewed coffee and venison bacon. My heart is warm. Just as we finish setting our gifts under the tree, there is a knock at the door. “Merry Christmas! Its Uncle Godfather Brian!” With a smile stretched from ear to ear, in strolls our dear friend Brian. Wrapped in a bathrobe, with his coffee cup in hand, he has come bearing gifts. More hugs all around. We enjoy a delicious feast set around the grand dining table. Then we move on to the great gift opening. I feel just as much at home here, amidst the company of close friends, as I did blocks away at my own house. There is a certain wonderful love in this air- its called the magic of Christmas morning. This morning, indeed, is one of my merriest of memories.