For whatever reason, while I was doing yard work during the Thanksgiving weekend, I started thinking about my favorite Christmas memories from my own school days. (This probably qualifies as ancient history for most people.) The daydreaming made the raking and mulch-spreading a lot more pleasant. The first grade had not been a rousing academic success for me when the time came to assign parts for the class Christmas play. For whatever reason, my teacher that year, Sister Calista, decided that being the narrator for the play was just what I needed.