Every year, before presents were opened, Grandpa would read the Christmas Story from the Bible. It was his way of making sure we didn't forget what he thought Christmas was supposed to be about. And every year, we'd dutifully sit there, silent, and listen, with sly grins and the occasional rolled eyes.

Last year, he asked my Dad to read instead. We knew the passing of the torch when we saw it, and several people cried.

This year? I doubt there will be a dry eye. I'm not exactly Christian, nor do I believe in Christmas as a Christian holiday... but that story will mean something this year.