By Dr. Mark Creech
During Christmas time, my father loved making this season of the year magical for children.
As children, every year Daddy would remind my sister and me to put cookies and milk out for Santa’s arrival on Christmas Eve night. On Christmas morning, I was always giddy with excitement to find an empty plate and glass under the tree next to my toys.
One Christmas morning, I was nearly beside myself to follow Santa’s tracks where he had stepped in the ashes of our wood burning fireplace after coming down the chimney and walking across the living room floor to place my gifts. I got every kid in the neighborhood to come and see it. Every one of them was in awe as they ogled over St. Nick’s very own footprints. Of course, I wasn’t old enough to recognize that those tracks were remarkably similar; in fact, even identical to my Daddy’s fireman’s boots he kept in the closet at the end of the hall.Read More