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Christmas Eve, the most magical night of the year, and the night my family and I had been preparing for and eagerly anticipating for weeks.

We had braved the elements and trudged through snow and ice to find the perfect presents.
We dragged bags and boxes home and painstakingly wrapped each gift in glossy paper, decorating it with a name tag and a colourful ribbons and bows.

We went in search of the perfect Christmas tree, and then spent hours decorating it with colourful lights, delicate glass painted balls and silver tinsel. We festooned the house with additional red and golden balls, candles and holly. In front of the tree a pile of presents were waiting to be opened. On the one side of the tree a nativity scene was displayed, complete with angels and miniature barn animals. My mom and I went grocery shopping for our family of four and several invited guests.

And now, now the night was finally here. I remember wearing my best dress, then looking around the living room and thinking how everything looked so beautiful and festive. The lights had been turned down; soft music was playing; candles were flickering and the Christmas tree twinkled in all its splendour in front of the window.

In the dining room the table was set for dinner. Mom's beautiful china and crystal glasses sparkled on a white damask table cloth. Silver candelabras, set among holly were waiting to be lit. Delicious smells came wafting out of the kitchen, where my mother was preparing pot roast, carrots, peas and sauted potatoes.

"Can I help, Mom?" I asked.

"Everything is done and warming in the ovens" Mom smiled. "I'll go and get changed now." She took off her apron and wiped her hands. "When your father arrives tell him to get dressed right away. Should Paula, Hector, Francois and Lillian arrive, show them into the living room and offer them a glass of wine. I won't be long." Paula and Hector and Francois and Lillian were friends of the family, each couple bringing their two sons.

Within minutes Mom was back down again, resplendent in a new wine red cocktail dress, a triple string of pears gleaming at her throat.

When the phone rang, Mom, in a rustle of skirts, hurried to the entrance hall. "If that's your father telling me he'll be late I'll wring his neck," she called over her shoulder. "He promised he would finish early today." When she came back into the living room she seemed upset.

"Was that dad?" I asked.

"Yes, he's been delayed in Brussels," she said. "He'll be home as soon as

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