I could just see the top of the desk. I was five years old. I had to keep rising up on my tipee-toes to get a good look at what my older sister was doing. It was my first Thanksgiving Break as I was a kindergartner. The light shone on the paper as my sister wrote the letter. When she summoned me into her room I hadn’t a clue as to what she was up to. She was my senior by seven years and in my mind she knew everything. I caught glimpses of what she was up to and saw that she was intent on her task. She wrote with what seemed like ease and grace to me…I longed to be able to write someday. “What do you want for Christmas?” she asked, “from Santa” she added. “Santa?” I replied, “You’re writing to Santa?” Without missing a beat I told her that I wanted an “Oscar the Grouch” puppet. She obliged and wrote it down. That’s all I can recall of that time with my sister, writing to Santa. I don’t remember anything else...