HOW ABOUT BOTH? The knock, knock, knock came every year, and every year, my mom would ask, "what was that?" We'd all heard it as the eight of us sat around the kitchen table eating lasagna - an interesting choice for a German family's traditional Christmas Eve dinner, but then, as my dad always said, Germans make the best lasagna (and the best spaghetti and the best chow mien and the best tacos and the best . . . ). Of course, we knew the noise we'd just heard had to be Santa. We were all in the kitchen, so who else could have made that noise? He came on Christmas Eve at our house (our last name began with "B," and Santa had to start somewhere, right? Oh those poor schmucks whose last name began with "T" or, God-forbid, "Z!" After dinner, with the dishes cleared, we formed a train and sang Jingle Bells as we marched down the steps to find what treasures Santa had left for us. I was always so impressed by Santa - not only did the ...
Thoughts on life and faith