On the Christmas when I was ten I snuck downstairs in the wee hours and found the coveted official Boy Scout sleeping bag AND the official Boy Scout Yucca Pack. I crawled into the bag, used the pack for a pillow and dozed under the tree, content beyond my fantasies. The family means were quite modest, the BSA gear expensive beyond all reason, and two younger sisters had their own Yule dreams.
I thanked Mom and Dad. I wish I'd thanked them more. I never knew what important things they denied themselves, but it was something.
Travis had it right about the teary nostalgia of some Christmas memories. It's the good ones that get to you.
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