Chapter 5

Don was obviously frustrated with algebra, and Lanh knew exactly why. She hated his algebra book with a passion because it left out a big portion of algebra that was crucial to successfully negotiating the language of numbers. Whether it was left out because it was expected to be taught in a previous grade, or in a following grade, she didn’t know. All she knew was that Don didn’t understand the math because this one crucial point was missing. She frowned, then looked at Don and said, “Ok, just put the book aside, let’s do it like this...” she drew out an equation on a blank piece of paper:

4 + 2 × 3 =

“No X’s, no Y’s, no fractions. Have at it.”

Don tore into the straight arithmetic and came up with the answer 18.

“That is exactly why I hate this book,” she said.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“You were doing good, but your mistake was here,” said Lanh. “you worked left to right, four plus two is six, six times three is eighteen. But this is math, not reading. You read left to right, but there is a specific order to “read” equations. P.E.M.D.A.S. You perform the mathematical functions in this order, Parentheses, Exponents, Multiplication, Division, Addition, Subtraction. So, when you follow that order, there’s nothing in parentheses, and no exponents. So, you move to multiplication, and you get two times three equals six. There’s no division so you move to addition, so six plus four and you get ten, which is the correct order and the correct answer.”

Don stared at the paper unblinking and moaned, “ok, it makes sense, but I’ll never remember this.”

Undeterred, Lanh pressed on, “Now if you write the equation like this and apply P.E.M.D.A.S...” 3 x (4 + 2) =

Don did the math and said, “Eighteen?”

“Yes! All I really did was put parenthesis around 4 + 2, and that changed the order of operation which changed the answer.” She used a few more equations, and he got each one correct. She was smiling and praying that he got it, but she deflated when he said, “I really understand it, but I’ll never remember that abbreviation.”

Deflated, but not defeated. She ran into the living room and searched around for something that she wears every Christmas season. She found them, put them on, then dashed back to the kitchen table wearing a green Christmas elf hat and fake elf ears. “I’m an elf!”

“A pretty cute one too,” said Don, who was wondering where this was going.

Lanh grinned. How could he say that to a skinny little girl with a mouth full of braces and glasses thicker than a phone book? But she grinned none the less, God it felt good to have someone outside of your family that likes you! Pressing on with her math lesson she grabbed a Christmas cookie off the plate in front of Don. “P.E.M.D.A.S. also means Pudgy Elves May Demand A Snack!” she said and bit the head off the angel shaped Christmas cookie.

“P.E.M.D.A.S. that works for me,” smiled Don. “But you’re not even close to being considered Pudgy.”

“What do you mean?” asked Lanh, puffing her cheeks out. Quick as lightning, he reached out and poked her ribs, causing her to laugh, spraying cookie crumbs on Don.

“You’re just skin and bones,” he said and started tickling her ribs. Lanh whooped in laughter and slipped off her chair to escape his tickling fingers. Not wanting to let her escape, Don followed her below the table where they rolled around under the table, tickling each other until a pair of feet appeared at the doorway. They immediately stopped their tickle war and held their breaths.

“I know you’re under there,” said Lanh’s older sister.

“It’s Tam,” whispered Lanh.

“I can hear you,” said Tam.

Don quietly whispered into Lanh’s ear, “she can’t hear us.”

“Yes, I can.”

Lanh turned to Don, her eyes wide in surprise, but Don hadn’t moved and suddenly they were nose to nose, eye to eye. Don never knew why he did it, but he leaned in a little bit and gave her a little kiss on the lips. Lanh’s beautiful dark brown eyes flared open in surprise, and she gasped a tiny gasp of surprise and pleasure.

“I heard that too!”

Lanh popped up from below the table. “You did NOT hear us kiss!”

“I didn’t say I did,” grinned Tam, leaning against the doorway, “but now I know what was going on down there.”

Lanh screamed in anguish and slumped back to the floor. “We’re busted,” she groaned.

For his part, Don climbed up into his seat, then looked down at Lanh. “You can get up; I found my pencil. We can get back to work.”

“It won’t work,” sighed Lanh. “We’re already busted.”

“Yeah, you’re busted,” said Tam, her arms crossed in a display of urgent impatience. “Now clean up your mess and get the table set, Mr. Campbell is joining us for dinner.”

Slowly, knowing that they were going to die, the two young students put their books away. The joy of Don’s learning breakthrough was lost. He never had the chance to show her the A he got on his English test, an A that never would have happened without her help. And now, because of him, it was all over. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as she handed him plates to set out on the table.

“What’s done is done,” she whispered, her eyes not meeting his. It’s not fair! She finally meets someone who gets her! Someone she can talk to! And now her dad is going to freak and it will be all over. All the while, Tam watched them with an evil smile on her pretty face.

She showed him how to set the table the way her father insisted on doing it, chopsticks along with western silverware, where the sauces and condiments need to be placed, all guided by sudden bursts of instructions from Tam in rapid fire Vietnamese which terrified Don. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did it...”

“It’s ok, I...” Lanh looked at Don, her face crimson with embarrassment. “I liked it.” They were interrupted by Kim-ly and Bao coming in from class.

“Hey squirt!” called Bao, as he tussled Lanh’s long ebony hair. “How’s the fish doing?”

“Marissa is fine,” said Lanh softly.

“Not that fish,” he growled and turned and put Don in a headlock. “I hear the JV team has a hope for the future!” He started giving Don noogies, “Old Ebony Eye! Isn’t that right?”

“Awk!” was all Don could say. It was a pretty good choke hold that Bao had him in.

“Let him go!” demanded Lanh as she tried to free Don from Bao’s grip.

“What is going on?” demanded Trung as he entered the dining room. He was far bigger and stronger than any of the Nguyen boys, and years of hockey insured that he remained that way. He had just arrived from Grand Forks and was still carrying his travel bag.

“Just saying hi to our guppy,” grinned Bao.

“Let him go, he’s starting to turn purple.” Trung used a tone of voice that wasn’t exactly a threat. It was a warning of a threat to come. Bao immediately released Don, who dropped to his knees and gasped for air. Trung leaned down and checked Don’s eye, which was still bruised from the beating over a week ago. “Damn, that shiner is a good one, you got some tough cheerleaders in your school.”

“Fuck you,” muttered Don.

“What?” laughed Trung. “He just told me to fuck off! This kid as some balls! I like this kid!” laughed Trung as he helped Don to his feet. “You got guts kid,” and pulled a very confused Don in for a bone crunching hug.

Soon, the entire Nguyen family, along with Ralph and Don Campbell, gathered at the table for “Leftover Night,” the night of the week, when leftover ingredients from the restaurant were brought home for a potluck dinner. Noodles, rice, sauces, vegetables, different cuts of meat were brought from the restaurant into the home and were eaten up rather than thrown out. As the popularity of the Pho restaurant caught on, leftover nights became fewer and further apart and had become somewhat of a family celebration.

Dinner was a loud, boisterous affair, full of laughter and humor now that all of Duong and Mai’s children were home from college for the holidays and swapping stories of their academic adventures. Until this week, it was just Lanh, Kim-ly, and Bao at home, Kim-ly and Bao being in their second year at Bemidji State University and closing in on their bachelor’s degrees and often did not get home until late. Trung was at the University of North Dakota on a hockey scholarship, and both Tam and Huy were finishing their studies at the University of Minnesota.

Lanh and Don sat side by side at dinner with an ever-growing cloud of dread hanging over their heads. They were sure that Tam was going to spill the beans, and Mai was going to demand that they stop seeing each other. And Duong? Dad was going to kill them. The tension was palpable, and Lanh was sure that at any moment, she was going to scream. She knew how to get out of this. She and Don could run away together and not have to worry about meddling siblings or parents.

They sat staring at their plates, terrified over what was going to happen. Don tried to eat a morsel here and there but his hands were shaking too bad to work the chopsticks which everyone was using, even his dad Ralph. Finally, their worst nightmare materialized. Tam said, “I saw something interesting today...”

Lanh was sure this was it. Her life would soon be over. Under the table, she held hands with Don, their hands clenched in terror.

“ ... I peeked in on Lanh and Don’s study session and...”

“OK! WE DID IT!” Lanh burst out. “WE KISSED! We were having fun and it just happened! And I’m not sorry!” Her hand clamped down on Don’s hand and she held on for dear life.

Her outburst was met with polite chuckles, but what really incensed Lanh the most was when her mother said, “We’re sure you did, dear, but you’re interrupting your sister, go ahead Tam.”

“WE DID!” cried Lanh, “LIKE THIS!” she put both hands on Don’s startled face and pulled him close and gave him a kiss.

The room was silent for a long moment, everyone staring at the shocked young couple until Tam said, “I was going to mention that you used the elf ears to teach Don the mathematical order of operations ... but what you have is good too.”

The room broke into riotous laughter and Huy came up behind Don and putting him in a headlock, rubbed his knuckles into Don’s scalp, and said “Welcome to the family fracas brother!”

As “punishment” for her outburst at dinner, Lanh was made the unofficial “Lady of the House” at the Campbell residence with the task of Returning Christmas to the Campbell’s farm. On Christmas Eve morning, Kim-ly and Bao drove Lanh to the Campbell farm to see what her chores would be. The moment she saw the house, Lanh fell in love with the place. The farmhouse was huge with a wrap-around porch, and a giant maple tree dominating the front yard with branches that simply begged for a tire swing and a leisurely summer climb. She could picture Sunday family reunions in the summer with softball being played out back, Frisbee being tossed, and horseshoes being pitched. In the front yard was a hand pump well, and Lanh just had to try it out. It took only four strokes of the pump handle to get the water flowing.

Don stepped out of the front door, and the wooden storm door squeaked and slammed just like Lanh knew it would. She ran up to the porch, slipping and sliding in the newly fallen snow, with her arms wide open. Don caught her up and spun her around before setting her down on the porch. “It’s perfect! I’m ready to move in now!”

“I’m ready to let you except for, y’ know, parents.”

“Show me! Show me everything!”

The Campbell’s house was built when the average farm family was at least 10 people, not including hired hands. The kitchen and dining room were built to feed the farm work force, so they were necessarily huge. The workforce lived in a bunkhouse attached to the main farmhouse just off the dining room. The living room and parlor were quaint, outdated, and perfectly beautiful to Lanh. The walls were covered with photographs and shelves full of books. She marveled at the wide plank wood floors and noticed that each room had a kerosene lamp and lampshades with tassels in case of power outage. And waiting for her in the living room was a stack of old cardboard boxes, each marked as “Christmas decorations.”

While Ralph welcomed Bao and Kim-ly, Don continued to give Lanh a tour of the house, including all the little hiding places he had as a child. When he showed Lanh the saddest room in the house, the room where his mother spent the last year of her life, Lanh grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry if I embarrass you at dinner other night,” she said so softly he could barely hear.

“No, you didn’t embarrass me, but you did surprise me.”

“It just ... in Vietnam culture a kiss is just for a couple. When we kiss under the table, hide from Tam, it ok, but in front of parents...”

“You’re speaking funny, are you ok?” A sudden dread washed over him. “You’re breaking up with me?”

Lanh looked horrified. “No! When I am nervous, I go to speaking like I did when I first learn English.” This was something that would haunt her forever. When she got nervous, her accent, which was slight, would dominate her speech until she was almost impossible to understand. She wrung her hands together; the words are coming harder. “We are very traditional people, and we don’t kiss when people watch.”

“Did anyone tell you to talk to me about this?”

“No, but...”

“Did your mother or father tell you that kissing me was bad?”

“No, but...”

“Is anyone mad at us for kissing?”

“No, but...”

“Do your parents kiss in front of you?”

“Yes, but...”

Don took her tiny hands in his. “I don’t know, maybe they already see us as a couple. But if it makes you nervous to kiss, then I would rather not do it.”

“Maybe not nervous,” she said. “maybe I like it too much?”

“Me too.” And as they hugged, Ralph called up the stairs, “Hey, you better get that tree before the weather turns, it’s supposed to get nasty later.”

Don slipped on his winter gear and headed out to the tractor shed with Lanh and Bao in tow. He opened the side door of the tractor shed and flicked a switch; an ancient lightbulb glowed weakly, illuminating the collection of farm implements. Lanh peered around in the spooky interior of the barn sized garage while Don checked out the old Ford tractor. Satisfied that there was enough gas, oil, and anti-freeze in the tractor, and that they were in all the right places, he fired up the old motor and pulled out of the shed, towing a single axle trailer. He then hopped off the tractor and left it running while he went for more equipment. Lanh and Bao investigated the puttering tractor while Don disappeared into the shed. He soon re-emerged with two chain saws, a container of gasoline, and some oil. He hopped up into the tractor seat and shouted, “We’ll be back soon!” over the noise of the tractor’s motor. With Bao riding on the trailer, they headed out across the snow-covered pasture to the woods, where a tree awaited them.

Lanh returned to the house where Ralph and Kim-ly were going through the contents of the boxes, lovingly packed away nine years ago by Emily Campbell while she was still healthy. The boxes were left untouched by Ralph or Don since that day. They unpacked candles and lamps, center pieces, tree ornaments, garland, and string after string of lights. Ralph opened one box, then peering in, he closed it back up and said, “Let’s save that one for Don.”

Out in the woods Don had parked the tractor, and the teens hopped off and were looking up at a seventy-five foot tall Black Hills spruce, known in Minnesota as a Black Spruce. Don patted the trunk and said, “This one will do nicely.”

Gazing up at the wooden behemoth, Bao shook his head. “Think it’s tall enough?”

“We just need some of it for now,” but Don was concentrating on how to drop the tree. He finally settled on a path that ran east/west. It was a narrow path between other trees, but there weren’t any obstacles to damage the tree as it fell. He grabbed a chain saw off of the trailer and put on eye and ear protection. “Here, put these on and I’ll show you how to drop a tree,” he said, handing a set of “earmuffs” and safety glasses to Bao.

“Ok we’re going to cut a wedge exactly perpendicular to the direction we want the tree to drop,” he took a stick and drew on the tree trunk where he planned to cut. Then he took the chain saw and pointed out the settings to Bao. “Gas, prime, choke. Then you grab the cord and as you pull the cord, you push the saw away.” With three yanks of the starter cord, the chainsaw sputtered to life. He revved it a few times to warm up the motor, then he set the saw to the tree, and he made his wedge cut.

The saw roared and wood chips flew from the blade. This saw didn’t make saw dust, it made spruce slaw. Bao was fascinated with the saw’s remains, little eighth inch squares of wafer-thin wood. His analytical mind demanded that he investigate further. Looking at the chain of the chainsaw, he saw the blade didn’t even resemble the blade of a handsaw; it had little claws that gouged out little chunks out of the wood as it comes around.

“Ok, now we make a hinge. One straight cut just a few inches above and behind the wedge cut. Stand to the side, if I get anything wrong, the trunk will kick straight back, and you don’t want to be in its way.” Again, the chainsaw bit into the tree, and chips flew as the chain’s teeth tore into the tree. Finally, with a groan, a creek, and a few snaps, the tree leaned a little. Slowly, it leaned more and more in the direction that Don required. It pivoted on Don’s cuts like a door swinging on a hinge. Then faster and faster it fell, and with a whoosh and a cloud of stirred up snow it landed precisely where Don wanted it to drop.

“Voilà!” said Don, shutting off the chainsaw.

Bao looked at the tree laying precisely where Don said it would land. It was huge! Not big around, but tall ... I mean long! Bao was sure he’s never seen a bigger tree in his life, seventy feet long, laying on the ground. It looked monstrous. He shook his head and said, “You’ll never fit it through the door.”

Back in the farmhouse, as the wind picked up, and the snow started flying, Ralph lit a fire in the living room fireplace and put some orchestral Christmas albums on the stereo. Lanh and Kim-ly unwrapped the decorations and asked Ralph if there were any stories or memories associated with them. Soon the house became cheery as the decorations that have not seen the light of day for nearly a decade warmed the house as much as the crackling fire.

With every rediscovered treasure, the sisters were able to instill more Christmas cheer with the decorations. A tiny Christmas village sprang to life atop the spinet in the living room. Garlands and pine boughs outlined doorways and livened up the staircase. There was even a cheery Christmas fire screen for the fireplace. Inside one box was an item wrapped in several layers of tissue. Lanh unwrapped it to find a large, lacework bell shaped decoration. It was constructed of heavy wire painted white and covered with tiny white puffballs to make it look like it was frost covered or snow covered. Inside, instead of a clapper, it had a sprig of mistletoe inside the bell. “What’s this?” asked Lanh.

“You don’t know mistletoe?” Ralph asked, surprised.

“She’s got the kissing part down,” grinned Kim-ly, with an elbow to Lanh’s ribs.

“Ow! Stop it, and I don’t...” then remembering that Ralph was there at dinner to see her outburst, she said “Ok, a little bit, but this is so pretty!”

“This was Don’s mom’s bell, she loved this ol’ thing.” He sniffed wistfully. “I guess it’s up to me to make sure it gets passed on.”

Lanh moved a stepladder into the doorway between the dining room and the living room and hung the bell by its red ribbon to a hook that was already in the doorway. She then climbed down and viewed it from all sides, insuring it was centered on the huge, gaily decorated dining room table, and the future location of the Christmas tree in front of the living room windows. “You’re spending a lot of time on that mistletoe,” said Kim-ly, as Lanh nudged the tree stand into alignment with the mistletoe bell and the dining room table.

“I think má and ba can’t complain about kissing under mistletoe. It’s a tradition.”

“The only one worried about kissing is you, em, ” laughed Kim-ly as she arranged a pine bough garland on the fireplace mantle. “Is someone feeling a little bit guilty about all that kissing, and you’ve only known each other two weeks?”

“Má and ba can’t complain about our kissing if there’s mistletoe involved,” said Lanh with a saucy wiggle of her eyebrows. “They’re always lecturing me on how important tradition is, and this is a tradition.”

Which was true. Lanh and her siblings were born and raised in America. Their parents were just children when they emigrated, but they try to keep their Vietnamese traditions alive. However, Mai and Duong’s kids are just as American as anyone who was born here. Yes, they learned to speak Vietnamese before they spoke English; they listen to the same music as their classmates. Their dad even served in the US Army for six years. As far as Lanh was concerned, traditions were just there to keep her grandparents happy and entertain their customers at the restaurant.

Just then, the rumbling of a distant tractor engine announced that Don and Bao were returning. “Typical,” huffed Kim-ly. “they’re just in time for lunch.” Lanh dashed to the dining-room window and saw the tractor’s headlights peering at her from out of the snowy gloom. With a squeal, she grabbed her parka and dashed outside through the kitchen door.

By the time she got out to the tractor shed, her brother had hopped off the trailer and lifted the seven-foot-tall top of the tree they just cut down. “What do you think?” he grinned.

“It’s ... different,” she said. The branches were spaced further apart than the trees her father and Huy usually bring home from the Christmas tree lot and it’s shaped kind of funny. It’s not a perfect cone like the tree lot trees. Bao had pulled most of the cones off of the branches on the trip back, and Lanh helped him pull the rest of the cones off of the tree. They didn’t want the cones to open in the warm house and drop seeds all over the carpet.

“You took long enough,” Kim-ly called from the kitchen door.

“This was the easy part,” called Bao, then he pointed to the trailer that was loaded to the brim with logs, each cut to eighteen inches long. “That’s where most of the work came in.”

“What is with all that wood?” asked Lanh, eyeing the eighteen-inch-long sections of tree trunk in the trailer.

“That’s the rest of the tree,” grinned Bao.

“What?”

“It was a pretty big tree, it’s now firewood. I have to split it later,” answered Don. “We don’t waste a tree. And come this spring I’m going to plant ten saplings.”

“Cut one, plant ten. That’s how we do it,” said Ralph, peeking out the door over Kim-ly’s head.

After parking the tractor and trailer in the shed and putting the tools away, Don walked to where Bao was wrestling the tree up the front steps and smiled. “What do you think?”

“It’s kinda big,” Lanh said as she pulled off the last of the pinecones.

“Let’s take it in before it gets covered with snow,” said Bao through the increasing squall.

“Don’t you have to trim a few inches off the bottom?” asked Lanh, who was used to watching her father and brothers prepare the trees they purchase from a tree lot for trimming.

“We already trimmed about seventy feet off the bottom,” said Don as he held the door open for Bao.

“What?” Lanh was completely confused.

Don followed Bao and Lanh into the house, and he was stunned. The decorations changed the old bachelor farmhouse into something more wonderful. He was overwhelmed with the ghosts of Christmases past, helping his mom with each delicate ornament, listening to the stories of the aunts, uncles, or grandparents associated with each one. He walked through the house, stunned, as the memories he had locked away came flooding back. He could almost feel his mother’s love one last time.

“Are you ok?” whispered Lanh.

“Yeah, it’s just so beautiful,” it was clear he was fighting to hold back the tears. “Thank you so much...” he pulled Lanh close to him and was amazed how wonderful she felt in his arms.

“Your dad was worried; he didn’t know if you would take it well.”

As usual, Kim-ly’s timing was perfect, “All right you two, either get under the mistletoe or get to the table, it’s lunch time!”

After lunch, the tree was bolted in its stand, watered, and quadruple checked for alignment by Lanh and Kim-ly. Ralph put cheerier Christmas music on the stereo and the four youngsters started decorating the tree. Many hands make delightful work go fast and soon Don and Bao were finishing up the tinsel as Ralph went to answer the ringing telephone. “Ok, what’s missing?” asked Kim-ly.

“A puppy to drink the tree water?” suggested Lanh hopefully.

“No, this!” said Kim-ly as she handed Don a large, heavy box. “Your dad said it was for you to open once the tree is up.”

Don set the box on the floor and opened it. Looking inside, his eyes grew misty. He reached in and began pulling out the Lionel train set his parents had given him nine years earlier. It was the last Christmas gift he received from his mom. “I forgot all about this!”

When Ralph returned to the living room, the O27 scale Santa Fe Southwest Chief was running laps around the tree. Lanh and Don were on the floor watching it, Don sitting cross-legged in front of the speed control and Lanh was on her knees wearing Don’s old mattress tic engineer’s cap and watching the train, fascinated with what she saw. Ralph snapped a few pictures of them then turned to Bao and said, “That was your mom on the phone, she said that the roads are getting too bad to drive on, you should stay here tonight.”

“We can’t impose...” Bao started.

“This is North Central Minnesota, I can’t let you out in all good conscience, especially knowing what you have in the trunk of your car,” said Ralph.

“She told you?” Bao sighed, “Ok, sir. If I’m not back shortly, send the dogs out for me,” and he grabbed his parka and stepped outside. Bao was back in a few minutes with three backpacks slung over his arm and carrying a medium size box. He looked over at Lanh and Don, who were still playing with the train like little kids. Lanh was now setting up the train station and placing the little people on the platform. Don was setting up a pair of road crossing lights with lowering arms. Kim-ly had gotten into the act and was making a mountain out of boxes and a white sheet to give the train a tunnel in a snow-covered mountain to pass through.

“Come on,” said Ralph, “I’ll show you where you’re bunking tonight.” He led Bao upstairs to a bedroom with a pair of twin beds. The decor was nondescript, and the mattresses were bare, but there were stuffed toys on the beds. “My nieces and nephews stay here when visiting so we’ll put the girls here.” After Bao placed the two overstuffed pink back packs on the beds, he followed Ralph down the hall, “This is my room, and here is another spare room, across the hall is a spare bedroom, and over there is Don’s room.”

“Where do you want me sir?” asked Bao.

“Well, I could put you in this spare room, or I could put you on a cot in Don’s room to cut back on any possible commuting. I trust Don, I trust him with my entire farm, and I’m sure you feel the same way about your baby sister. But I don’t trust teenage hormones if you get my meaning. So, I’ll leave it up to you as to where you want to sleep.”

Bao took a deep breath. He didn’t know Don well at all, but he knew Lanh. She was a sweet girl, but other than a goldfish and the occasional stray cat, she never had a friend, let alone a boyfriend. The emotions of first love were overpowering, and he was sure that she wasn’t ready for it. Bao understands the emotional overload of first love first-hand. His first love has always been his sister Kim-ly and woe to any man who dare get between them. If Don is feeling the overload that Bao has experienced... “Where can we find that cot sir?”

When Ralph and Bao returned to the living room, their absence hadn’t been noticed. The train was running with Lanh at the controls, while Don and Kim-ly finished draping the last of the tinsel on the branches. The uneven branches allow the tinsel to hang straight down, and it looks like the icicles that the tinsel reproduced. Memories of walking through the woods with Emily, looking at the sunlight glinting off the icicles on the trees caused by the sunlight melting the snow flooded back into Ralph’s mind and he felt his heart hitch on a beat or two...

The large twinkling Noma lights that were strung near the trunk of the tree filled the center of the tree with old-fashioned joy, while the tiny mini-lights that were strung on the branches resembled multi-colored fireflies. Ralph had forgotten the beauty of the antique glass ornaments that had been stored for nearly a decade, and the angel atop the tree looking down on Ralph and Don resembled their lost Emily so much even she would understand why they forewent her favorite holiday for a few years.