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It’s Dec. 24, 1994, and, no, I’m not longing to be up North. I’m actually longing for the Christmas Eves of so many years past.
I really can’t lay claim to one particular one, but rather the hustle, bustle and excitement of preparing for last-minute trips to the mall, lunching at Pizza Hut with the cousins and seeing family crowd into a house that threatens to bust at the seams.
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