____._.___$ 
     
     --__ _ 
     
    
   
   
    
     s trimmed and all aglow 
     
     oodnight, and 
     
    
   
   
    
     the tree i 
     
     e iust said g 
     
    
   
   
    
     It's Christmas Eve, soni .<  . 
     
     . . the Lawsons and the Wrights hav 
     
    
   
   
    
     d I are alone. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Mother an 
     
     Just as We did last year when you 
     
    
   
   
    
     ss you plenty, boy. 
     
     r wire saying you couhlwt get 
     
    
   
   
    
     and we got you 
     
     diiierence .  _ 
     
    
   
   
    
     We mi 
     
     But there’s this 
     
    
   
   
    
     were at camp 
     
     leave to come home. 
     
    

    
     Christmases 
     
     ery first 
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘ng backward; dreaming of 
     
     with your 
     
    
   
   
    
     h the years to your v 
     
     ‘ftstoplay 
     
    
   
   
    
     past . . . 
     
     Christmas when‘ yo 
     
     old shoe . . t. the Christmas when 
     
     whole day om he floor playing wr hy 
     
     to the Ch 
     
     chemical set 
     
    
   
   
    
     go, when you got 
     
     hole house. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Last year it 
     
    
   
   
    
         
     
        
     
           
     
         
     
          
     
          
     
              
     
       
     
       
     
       
     
        
     
       
     
        
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     Son ... 
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘ st ilay of our lives is still to 
     
    

    
     re looking ahead, w ihg for the Christ- 
     
     e to help trim the tree. 
     
     llbe 
     
    
   
   
    
     not so far away when you wi 
     
    
   
   
    
     home. 
     
     en this year - though 
     
    
   
   
    
     'Ancl though you’re farther away than ev 
     
    

    
     there’s a lot of blue water hetwe en you anal our front clo'or here at 
     
    

    
     home, we lmow that every clay that passes brings alittle closer 
     
     y when you will come hack to all of us. 
     
    
   
   
    
     the great (la 
     
     ut the joy of 
     
    
   
   
    
     Christmases Past; h 
     
     ’ this year by the zrowin: