Christmas, 1998

From the Editor, December 1998:

Another year blinks past.

I remember Christmases as a kid. I grew up here in Utah, in Kearns and in Cache Valley. Christmas was magic, especially the year there was a knock on our back door and we found a box of presents on the back porch and sleigh tracks with reindeer hoof prints (we didn't have a chimney, so I guess that's the best he could do).

I would sleep in the front room in my sleeping bag, near the Christmas tree, letting the lights carry me off to sleep with dreams of anticipation.

Every year, the presents I looked forward to the most were books. I remember sitting on Santa's lap—I was only six years old—and having him ask me what I wanted. All I told him was "books."

Over the years I've come to regard the gift of reading as one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given. With this one gift I've traveled the world, through space and time, and always before me are worlds yet to explore.

This year, I hope books are among the gifts we all give, and along with them, give the gift of your passion for reading. Share it often with those you love.

The Leaky Pen, Vol. 1 Issue 5, December 1998