Snowflakes gently drifted down from the sky, falling softly onto a blanket of white. The morning was quiet, tranquil. Wisps of smoke rose up from the chimneys of the houses that lined the street. A bird alighted onto a branch, a clump of snow landing onto the ground as the tree deposited its load. A peaceful calm had descended over the neighborhood. The sun was just beginning to rise, peeking over the horizon.

A door suddenly slammed open. The sound echoed across the street, breaking the silence. A young child ran across the yard, laughingly scooping up a handful of snow. She was dressed in nothing more than her pajamas and a pair of boots that were too large for her, yet the freezing cold weather seemed to not bother her.

"Look, Mommy! It's snowing!" she squealed happily.

A tired-looking women leaned against the door frame, smiling. "Yes, it is snowing, isn't it?"

Twenty years later, a young woman sat in an airport terminal, watching the snow fall outside. It was a white Christmas. She vaguely remembered the days when she was younger, when even a white Christmas seemed magical. She missed those days, the days when everything was so simple, so easy. The days when she didn't have a care in the world.

"Merry Christmas," a flight attendant told her, breaking her out of her reverie. Surprised, she realized that she had already boarded the plane. She took the candy cane that the flight attendant handed her, licking it absentmindedly.

"Merry Christmas," she replied, smiling.

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