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I can't think of a specific gift that I would call a favorite, but my favorite memories of Christmas are very old - until I was 4 years old, I lived in my great-grandmother's house in Aldan, PA with her, my grandmother, several uncles and my parents.

My great grandmother was an imperious woman, but I was her fair-haired boy. Our house was a large brick house with twelve-foot ceilings. Our Christmas trees reached the ceiling, and sometimes traveled along the ceiling for a foot or two. The tree was always in the foyer, a beautiful wood-paneled room with a Tiffany lamp on the table. Every Christmas, it was girded about by presents.

But the focus wasn't on the presents - it was on the family, which had been through so much - the Depression and WWII. If you've ever read or heard "A Child's Christmas In Wales" by Dylan Thomas, you know what I'm talking about.

They were idyllic Christmases in the late 40's and early fifties. We moved away from Philly in 1951, but came back every Christmas for as long as my great-grandmother lived.

Keep Faith with the Fallen of Benghazi! Let the Obama Regime, for once, tell the Truth!

Fiat Justitia, Ruat Coelum!

Genuflectimus non ad principem sed ad Principem Pacis!

Listen, O isles, unto me; and hearken, ye people, from far; The LORD hath called me from the womb; from the bowels of my mother hath he made mention of my name. (Isaiah 49:1 KJV)