Every year at about this time, I try to reread Dylan Thomas's lovely piece, A Child's Christmas in Wales. It's a simple tale, written from the point of view of a young Welsh boy, and it makes me smile year after year. He remembers presents, good things to eat, friends, aunts, uncles, and, above all, the pleasures of snow. This tiny story seems to spell out joy in its simplest, humblest origins. Spend an evening with A Child's Christmas in Wales, and you'll see what I mean.
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