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pining
We got a Christmas tree yesterday. It’s a grand pine, and the smell makes me want to bury my face in it and smile in some faint memory of good Christmases of my past. It instantly brings to mind a cheery little fire, snow outside, frozen fingers and toes, hot cocoa, and presents under the tree. Admittedly, we only celebrated Christmas in such a way like two or three times in all my youth, but it still reminds me of winter and all the goodness it brings, at least, to me.