The smells of Christmas are the smells of childhood

Sunsets, like childhood, are viewed with wonder not just because they are beautiful but because they are fleeting.

Dance. Dance for the joy and breath of childhood. Dance for all children, including that child who is still somewhere entombed beneath the responsibility and skepticism of adulthood. Embrace the moment before it escapes from our grasp. For the only promise of childhood, of any childhood, is that it will someday end. And in the end, we must ask ourselves what we have given our children to take its place. And is it enough?

Childhood smells of perfume and brownies.

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.

In the childhood memories of every good cook, there's a large kitchen, a warm stove, a simmering pot and a mom.