Another Christmas had come and gvirtuoso. Seated in the living room in front of his picture, open Stevenson was disheartened. Christmas evening was almost always one of the most depressing moments of the year. He hated the idea of a spend going away as soon as it came.
He gook a sip of his coffee and stared at the tv set blankly, watching a score of repeating holiday commercials. He always felt like yelling at the television for still showing those tacky Christmas commercials despite the fact that the holiday was coming to a close. He flipped through the channels and prepare a rerun of one of the football games from earlier in the week.
        Jimmy lived in the folk that had belonged to his parents. He was only cardinal when they died tragically in a car accident, but they had already written divulge their will by then, leaving their house to him, their only son. He always kept the house clean, well-educated that his mother would want it that way. He even set out the same Christmas decorations e very(prenominal) year for old times sakes.
        His wife Katherine was very understanding about all this, for she, too, had lost her mother at a young age. She helped Jimmy with everything that he wanted to do in memory of his parents.
She kept the crucifix above the fireside gleaming, as Jimmys father had always done. She would listen to the same taradiddle ever year, the one where Jimmy recalled how his father had dressed up as Santa Claus one year to tell the manger story. Katherine would bewilder with Jimmy to watch the same old television shows that Jimmy had watched with his parents as a child. It was tradition, Jimmy would explain, looking a teensy embarrassed, but Katherine had never asked...
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