"On Christmas Eve, many years ago, I lay quietly in my bed. I did not rustle
the sheets. I breathed slowly and silently. I was listening for a sound - a
sound a friend had told me I'd never hear - the ringing bells of Santa's
sleigh. 'There is no Santa,' my friend had insisted, but I knew he was wrong.
Late that night I did hear sounds, though not of ringing bells. From outside
came the sounds of hissing steam and squeaking metal. I looked through my
window and saw a train standing perfectly still in from of my house."
Copyright (C) 1985 by Chris Van Allsburg. All rights reserved.(Continues.)