There it is, see it? That's Grandma's house. It's a small house in a small town. In fact, it's the smallest house in town.

Grandma hasn't always lived in that little house of course. Nope, her and Grandpa lived for years and years out in the country. At least that's what I was told as a little boy. Her and Grandpa lived on a farm out west of town, a couple different farms as a matter of fact. It was on those places, in the middle of that corn and beans and oats and cows and pigs that Grandma and Grandpa raised those 9 kids.

Grandpa's gone now, gone before I even came along. I never knew him at all, except for the stories that Grandma told and my folks told and others who knew him back in the "old days" told me. But Grandma? Oh, I knew Grandma alright.

It was always fun to go to Grandma's little house, it didn't matter if it was spring,summer, fall or winter. But Christmas time? Well, Christmas time is always special at your Grandma's house isn't it?

Hold on just a second here. Take just a minute. You've just stepped into Grandma's little kitchen. There she is, in a dress (I never did see Grandma in anything other than a dress, did you?), apron on, hair up in a bun. you smell it? There's warm Christmas cookies on the counter right there. And is that some kind of fudge? And peanut brittle?

Breathe deep, just for a moment. Yep, that's the smell of Christmas. That's the smell of Christmas long ago. All these years later, you can still smell cookies and cakes, fudge and peanut brittle and the other foods and treats of Christmas. But it isn't just quite the same is it?

Lets take a break here, you and I. Let's shut out the world for just a bit, close our eyes...there she is, it's Christmas in Grandma's kitchen.

And doesn't it smell wonderful.

It's OK to slow down for a little while, maybe even stop for a time. Not a long time. But a long time ago. And if you promise not to tell, I'm just going to reach up here on the counter and sneak one of these cookies.

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