A Welsh poet recalls the celebration of Christmas in Wales and the feelings it evoked in him as a child.
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<p><b>A reminiscence of Christmas, from the viewpoint of a young boy, that has been a holiday favorite for decades. </b><br><br>In rich, humorous, magical prose, poet Dylan Thomas recalls the church-going, the tree-trimming, the food, the carols and games of his childhood Christmases. And, of course, Mrs. Prothero and the firemen. It is one of Thomas’ most popular works.<br><br><i>Always on Christmas night there was music,</i> he writes<i>. An uncle played the fiddle, a cousin sang “Cherry Ripe,” and another uncle sang “Drake's Drum.” It was very warm in the little house. Auntie Hannah, who had got on to the parsnip wine, sang a song about Bleeding Hearts and Death, and then another in which she said her heart was like a Bird's Nest; and then everybody laughed again; and then I went to bed. Looking through my bedroom window, out into the moonlight and the unending smoke-colored snow, I could see the lights in the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear the music rising from them up the long, steady falling night.</i><br><br>For this edition, Edward Ardizzone created the perfect accompaniment in 30 delightful watercolors and drawings. This is a timeless classic—a wonderful evocation of a gentle and seemingly endless Christmas made charming and endearing through language. Published in a format for reading aloud to young people, this is truly a book for all ages.</p>
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