Honey’s boots crunched in the icy slush, as she slowly made her way from her car to the front door of the church. The many vehicles in the parking lot had turned what had been fresh, pristine snow that morning into gray, dirty slush by nightfall. If she stopped to think about it long enough, it could be a metaphor for her life, but she refused to stop and think at all. She simply took a deep breath, wrapped her green wool coat more tightly about herself, and continued to make her way through the slush to the church.

Honey was late, and the service had already started. However, when she stepped onto the church’s stone front porch, she couldn’t yet make herself open the door. Instead, she savored the quiet solitude of the moment and breathed deeply of the cold night air, watching her breath exhale in smoky puffs. There was no moon tonight, only stars, and, fancifully, Honey searched the sky for that same Star that had guided the Magi to the Christ-child thousands of years ago. She needed a guiding star tonight, some shining light to point the way for her. She sighed, as she leaned her head against one of the cool white columns wrapped with festive green ivy. How could she have gotten so lost?

From where she was standing, Honey could hear the choir singing, and, when she closed her eyes, she could almost believe that it was last Christmas, and she was sitting in the pews with her best friends and not standing alone outside.

It had become a tradition of sorts for the Bob-Whites and their families. On Christmas Eve, if they were able, they would meet at the church for the early evening service. Last year, no one had gone out of town to visit family, and there had been no Christmas Eve cocktail parties in the city claiming the Wheelers’ or Lynches’ attention. Everyone had been together. And what a beautiful service it had been! The resonance of the softly sung carols and the glow of the candlelight had enveloped Honey with a warm serenity, and, surrounded by her dearest friends and family members, Honey had prayed, "Dear Lord, let us always be just like this . . ."

Tom and Celia Delanoy’s baby boy, jauntily dressed in a little Santa suit, smiled a toothless grin at Honey, as he went from Diana Lynch’s arms back to his mother. Little Zachary was to have played the Baby Jesus in the nativity scene; however, because Zack had the sniffles, Celia was afraid that he’d be too fussy to stay in the manger. Although the role had been given to another baby, Zack was very much enjoying his current role, as the happy baby being passed from one set of welcoming arms to the other. There was nothing like a baby at Christmas time! Di giggled quietly, while she helped Mart Belden wipe baby drool off the shoulder of his sweater. As the congregation stood once more to sing, Dan Mangan whispered a comment about babies that earned him a playful smack from Di and caused Mart to roll his blue eyes.

The lilting melody of the 18^th century French carol was somewhat jarred by the overly operatic falsettos of Bobby Belden and Larry and Terry Lynch, prompting stern looks from both Helen Belden and Carol Lynch and a covert wink from the jolly Ed Lynch. Seeing that the Beldens were jointly occupied with cooing at Zack, now comfortably situated in Helen’s arms, and with looking sternly at Bobby, redheaded Jim Frayne seized the opportunity. As they sat back down, he slid closer to Trixie and casually placed his arm along the wooden pew behind her. Honey smiled as she spied the fond look her adopted older brother cast upon his girlfriend, who responded with an answering blush. Honey guessed that, even when Trixie was an old lady of seventy, she’d still be blushing at fond glances received from a seventy-two year old Jim.

Two rows in front of the Bob-Whites, the Wheelers sat with the Beldens and Lynches, and Honey marveled at how comfortable and at home her parents looked sitting with the others. It didn’t seem that long ago that she was spending Christmas Eve alone with the family’s servants while her parents madly twirled from one Christmas party to another. But, five blessed years ago, Honey had gotten sick, and Matthew Wheeler had purchased the Manor House, and she had met Trixie, and they had found Jim, and . . . well, sometimes, dreams came true. And, indeed, Christmas time was a lovely time to rejoice in the blessing of those dreams coming true. Honey sighed in contentment, as the reverend began reading from the second chapter of Luke. The familiar words were almost like music.

And then the music did rise as the sounds of another carol rang out.

Joy . . . this is joy, Honey thought to herself. Beside her, Brian Belden took her hand and casually brushed his thumb across her knuckles. When she looked up into his dark eyes, he winked at her. Breathless joy.

After the service, the adults planned to go to the Lynch estate, where Bobby and the two sets of Lynch twins could play in the game room while the adults sipped eggnog and talked quietly in the family room. The Bob-Whites were gathering at Crabapple Farm for their own party.

As they separated into their different cars, Helen Belden called out to her older children, "Don’t forget, kids! We’ll be home around ten-thirty, so Bobby can go to bed so that Santa can come!"

"Hence, we must needs culminate our jubilant yet boisterous festivities by said time," concluded Mart, while, at the same time, Bobby, a smaller version of Mart, complained, "Jeepers! Moms, I’m eleven years old!"

"Well, then, your mother needs to go to bed so Santa can come!" Peter Belden joked as he opened the mini-van’s passenger door for his wife.

"Peter!" Helen admonished, her cheeks a becoming pink.

"What?" he innocently asked. "You don’t want your present?"

"Just get in the van, Peter," responded Helen through her laughter, "And, just so you know, before I can go to bed, I still have to put together the French toast casserole for breakfast tomorrow morning and make that fruit salad you like . . ."

"Okay, kids, let’s go," Peter directed Bobby and the Lynch twins. "We’ve got places to see, things to do," and, for his wife’s ears only, Peter whispered, "People to do . . ." as Helen stretched across the front seat so their lips could meet for a quick kiss.

Walking to the Bob-White station wagon with Trixie and Di, Honey wistfully remarked, "Your parents are still so in love. I want a love just like that."

"Oh, please!" Trixie said impatiently with a toss of her blonde curls. "I’d rather not talk about my parents’ love life. And yours and Di’s parents looked awfully cozy tonight too!"

"I know! Aren’t they cute?" Di giggled as she flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. "Not that I want to imagine my parents that way, mind you! But, you know, Honey, since Brian is Mr. Belden’s son, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about."

Honey blushed and then began to giggle, as well, when Trixie firmly stated, "We are so not going there!"

All three girls were laughing merrily, as they arrived at the old station wagon, and were greeted by Mart who, with a flourish, opened the door of the car, "Ladies, your sleigh awaits."

As if on cue, Trixie gaily sang out as she climbed into the front seat of the car, "‘Sleigh bells ring. Are you listening?’"

"‘In the lane, snow is glistening!’" Honey and Di sang in response.

Mart groaned, as Dan laughed, "Just remember, Martin, you started this!"

"And, if you can’t beat ‘em – " Jim said with a shrug of his supple shoulders.

"Join ‘em!" Brian finished.

And, pretty soon, the car was filled with the chorus of happy young voices.

The weather was unseasonably warm for Sleepyside in December, and, inside the warmth of Crabapple Farm’s cheery red and white kitchen, Dan took off his sweater to a reveal an unlikely holiday shirt that was met with laughter from the others. With much teasing and vocal enjoyment, they read the front of the white T-shirt emblazoned with a Santa Claus in red boxers holding a neon sign outlined by flashing green lights that said, "Santa Comes But Once A Year, Baby!"

"Oh my gosh, Dan!" Di squealed, her violet eyes alight with laughter. "Where did you get that?"

"It was a gag gift from Uncle Bill. He didn’t think I’d wear it, so I did." Dan answered and then added with a sly grin, "Maybe I should loan it to Mr. Belden?

"We are not going there!" Trixie’s voice emphatically stated from inside the refrigerator, where she was gathering the party platters prepared earlier by her and her mother.

With cups of eggnog and plates piled high with goodies like fruitcake cookies and Helen Belden’s homemade stollen, they gathered in the living room, where they amicably argued over what movie to put in the VCR.

"‘It’s a Wonderful Life’?" Honey offered hopefully, but she was met with four resounding no’s from the Bob-White males.

"Being the movie connoisseur that I am, may I suggest ‘National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation’?" Mart handed the movie to Honey. "That, my friends, is the quintessential holiday movie."

"Oh, yeah!" Dan gave a suggestive waggle of his dark eyebrows. "How about that swimming pool scene?"

Jim’s green eyes twinkled mischievously. "No, no, no! My favorite scene’s got to be the one at the lingerie counter!"

Shaking her head while trying to hide her laughter, Honey held the Chevy Chase movie behind her back and playfully backed away from Brian who was pretending to grab it from her. As he reached her, Brian looked up at the ceiling. Honey looked too and then laughed out loud. Brian had managed to rather smartly maneuver her underneath a sprig of mistletoe. The girls had coaxed Dan to bring them mistletoe from the preserve, and now the plant sprigs were strategically hanging from numerous locations in all three of their homes. Trixie and Honey had hung this sprig themselves, even before Mrs. Belden had brought out the farmhouse’s other Christmas decorations. Brian and Honey’s eyes met, and the laughter suddenly caught in her throat. Mindful of the others in the room, he only brushed her cheeks with his lips, but the look in his eyes was filled with such promise that Honey felt her pulse quicken with an answering anticipation.

Trixie rolled her eyes and, since Honey was, for the moment, distracted, took her place at the VCR. "If we can’t watch ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’, we’re not going to watch you guys drool like junior high boys over some woman in a swimsuit either!" she stated.

"Oh, but, Freckles, that’s some swimsuit!" Dan laughed, as Trixie shot him a withering glare. Truthfully, Dan didn’t care what they watched. Sometimes, it was just fun to watch the girls get their feminine feathers ruffled.

Di lightly punched Mart in the arm, since he seemed to be on the verge of agreeing with Dan, and suggested, "Why don’t we compromise? I’ve always thought that ‘The Sound of Music’ was kind of Christmas-y. And I love the song, ‘My Favorite Things’!"

"Me too!" Trixie agreed and began searching the entertainment shelves for the musical. "Actually, that song’s on one of our Christmas tapes."

At the thought of that particular movie-musical, Jim and Dan groaned while Mart clutched his sandy hair and loudly protested, "Lady Di! That’s not a compromise! We just partook of a singalong in the car, and my vocal chords aren’t yet recuperated enough for rousing renditions with the Von Trapp family! Pray tell, what’s wrong with the traditional yet entertaining ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ or ‘Frosty the Snowman’?"

"Or ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’?" added Dan helpfully from his stretched-out position on the floor.

Still searching for the movie, Trixie wondered aloud, "Gleeps, Mart! Must you always sound like a character from a Dickens’ novel?"

"How would you know?" Mart retorted. "All you ever read is that Lucy stuff." Mart shared a secret smile with Honey. Trixie didn’t know it, but, thanks to Honey’s assistance, her present from him for Christmas morning was a signed and numbered first edition copy of one of her beloved Lucy Radcliffe novels.

"Guys," Brian said, before Mart and Trixie had a chance to fully destroy Mrs. Belden’s neatly arranged shelves. "We do this every year. Instead of a movie, which we don’t have time for anyway, let’s just listen to some Christmas music while we open our presents."

Honey tucked a stray strand of golden hair behind one ear and smiled at Brian. "I agree, Brian. Music would be lovely!"

"Just make sure you get the tape that has ‘My Favorite Things’ on it. I love the part about the ‘girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes’," said Trixie, relinquishing control to her oldest brother.

While Brian and Honey made the music selections, Trixie sat down on the couch in the space Jim had reserved for her. As she snuggled up next to him, he tugged one of her curls and admitted with a wink, "I like that ‘blue satin sashes’ song too, Trix. It reminds me of someone I know."

The music softly played on the stereo, and, in the glow of the Beldens’ Christmas tree decorated with its handmade ornaments, the Bob-Whites settled down to open their presents from each other. Since that first Christmas in Arizona, the Bob-Whites had drawn names for giving presents. Of course, over the years, that hadn’t stopped a few special presents from being given and received outside of the drawing. One year, the guys had gotten together and surprised each of the girls with a bob-white charm and necklace. This year, like previous years, the room was soon filled with happy exclamations and laughter, as the floor became a colorful array of wrapping paper.

After the presents were opened, Trixie handed everyone a reindeer candy cane. "These are from Bobby. He was supposed to give them out at church tonight, but, as usual, he ‘forgotted’."

Helen Belden, it seemed, was holding onto her last Christmas with a child in elementary as tightly as she could. Directed by his mother, and, under a self-proclaimed protest that he was too big for art projects, the eleven-year-old had used pipe cleaners and candy canes to fashion the reindeer for the other students in his class; the leftovers were to be for the Bob-Whites.

"This reminds me of those candy cane hearts you endeavored to create when you were seven, Trix," teased Mart. "If my memory serves, they kept falling off the tree."

"And, if my memory serves," Brian corrected, "the real reason they didn’t stay on the tree is because you kept eating them – glue and all!"

"Thank you, Sir Brian," said Trixie smugly with a tart nod in Mart’s direction, as everyone laughed.

"Well, I think Bobby’s reindeers are darling," Honey interjected tactfully, before the peaceful Christmas spirit could be spoiled by one of the almost twins’ arguments. "Please tell him I said thank you. I can’t wait for Bobby to see his present from Regan! It’s a pair of reindeer antlers!"

Amid laughter, the seven Bob-Whites began working to put Crabapple Farm back to its pre-party state, and, for a while, ordered chaos reigned supreme. Jim and Trixie washed dishes side-by-side, and, if there were a few suds that went flying across the kitchen, no one said anything. While Di refereed, Dan and Mart competed to see who could throw the most wrapping paper in the trash can, and, if more paper ended up back on the floor, again, no one said anything. And, if Brian and Honey seemed to be paying more attention to each other than the pillows that they were straightening, no one said anything then either. It was Christmas, after all.

Suddenly, Trixie ran over to the stereo, turned up the volume, and exclaimed, "Oh, guys! I love this song! Isn’t it perfect for us?"

"Perfectly perfect," Honey sighed, her eyes suspiciously moist.

Trixie added fervently, "Let’s promise that we’ll always be together."

"Just like this," Di agreed with a smile.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still while the Bob-Whites stood together, soaking in the music and basking in their friendship. Honey didn’t think she had ever been happier than she was right then, and she wished that the music could play on and on. However, she laughed good-naturedly with the others, when the music stopped, and Mart, fearing someone was about to yell, "Group hug!", grinned. "Alas, I hate to interrupt this Hallmark moment, yet methinks ‘tis time to escort the fair Diana home."

"That’s right," stated Brian. "Moms, Dad, and Bobby will be home any minute."

Reluctantly, the party began to break up with cries of "Merry Christmas" and good-bye hugs and kisses. Di and Mart gathered up their belongings and left with Dan who was headed for the small cabin in the woods he shared with Mr. Maypenny.

Then Brian took his jacket off the hook by the door and said, "Honey, can I walk you home?"

Honey looked up from where she was trying to retrieve a stray piece of wrapping paper from under the couch in time to catch Trixie making kissy faces at her behind Brian’s back. Forgetting the paper stuck under the leg of the couch and ignoring Trixie, she shyly replied, "I’d love that, Brian. Just let me get my things." Remembering her brother, she asked, "Jim, are you coming with us?"

"Uh . . . no," Jim answered, a slight blush causing the tips of his ears to tinge red. "I’ll be home in a few minutes after I tell Trixie good-night."

This time, it was Honey’s turn to make a silly face at Trixie. As Brian helped her with her coat, it was probably a good thing that neither girl caught the joking look, rife with serious undertone, that passed between Brian and Jim; a message given and received from both ends: Be careful with my sister.

Leaving Jim with Trixie and the strains of Bing Crosby, Brian held the door open for Honey, and they walked out into the night together.

The moonlight illuminated the well-worn path between the Manor House and Crabapple Farm, and their footsteps were the only sound as Honey and Brian walked hand-in-hand up the path. She wondered what Brian was thinking. It wasn’t the first time he walked her home. It wasn’t the first time they’d been alone together. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t used to thoughtful silences from Brian. It just seemed different, and Honey felt an unexpected need to break this silence.

"I love – " she started.

"Honey, I – " Brian began at the same time.

Honey stopped and looked at Brian. "What?"

"No, ladies first," he said, staring intently back at her, "Who...er...what do you love?"

"Oh,...uh...well,..." she blushed and giggled. "I was just going to say that I love Christmas Eve night."

"Oh, yeah...Me too. It’s...umm...nice," he murmured.

"It’s magical, you mean," Honey countered, her voice whisper-soft.

They stood on the path, facing each other, bathed in the moonlight, hazel eyes searching dark ones.

"What were you going to say?" she gently reminded him.

Brian stammered uncharacteristically, "Honey, I...I wanted to...I mean I asked you to..."

"Yes, Brian? You asked me to – " Honey prompted at his frustrated sigh.

He cleared his throat. "I mean, I wanted to walk you home so I could give you your Christmas present."

"Oh. Okay. But, I’ve still got yours under our tree at home," she said, suddenly unsure. He had given her presents before tonight. Why was he now so nervous?

Honey watched him take out of his pocket a small box, wrapped in holiday teddy bear paper and tied with a perky green ribbon.

He handed the present to her. "You may not like it . . . I mean, I hope you like it . . . I like it . . . When I saw it, I thought of you. At first, I didn’t buy it, but I kept going back and just looking at it, and, finally, I just bought it. I... I hope – "

"May I open it?" she interrupted with a smile.

He stopped talking and nodded in response.

Honey untied the ribbon and carefully tore open the paper. A worn velvet ring box stared back at her. She looked at Brian, who was nervously looking back at her, and then hesitantly flicked the box open with her finger. It had to have come from an antique shop, she decided. Truly one-of-a-kind, the band of the ring was gold filigree, and the stone was a light green emerald shot through with fiery yellow topaz.

"Oh, Brian!" Honey gasped.

"I know you’re...we’re...not ready for rings...and things, and I guess it’s kind of silly...but when I saw it...It looked like you...it reminded me of your eyes...I hope it fits...If you don’t like it..." Brian’s voice trailed off as Honey put a finger to his lips.

"I love it," she assured him. "I couldn’t love anything more. Will you put it on me?"

Brian’s face broke out in a wide grin. With slightly trembling hands, he took the ring from the box, and, taking her left hand in his, slid it smoothly onto her finger.

Honey, heiress to a fortune with easy access to anything she could ever want, held out her hand in the moonlight and smiled happily at the delicate antique. Nothing was more precious than the promise this lovely ring held.

"It’s beautiful," she declared.

"You’re beautiful, Honey."

"You think I’m beautiful?" A thousand butterflies took flight in her stomach.

"Honey! You are so beautiful to me. I can’t even tell you how...what you do to me."

She was breathless.

"I look in your eyes, and I see your heart. You look in my eyes, and you see my soul, Honey."

Her heart soared up to the stars. "I love you, Brian."

He laughed, "I was supposed to say that first!"

"You did. I saw it in your eyes, and I answered."

Honey heard his swift intake of breath and, in the light from the moon, saw his eyes fill with sweet passion.

"I love you," Brian whispered right before he drew her to him and kissed her.

It wasn’t their first kiss. However, as his strong arms tightened about her, and he deepened the kiss with firm lips and a soft, stroking tongue, Honey knew all kisses before this kiss were forgotten. Breathless joy.

Honey was startled out of her reverie by the opening of the heavy wooden church door.

"I thought I saw someone out here through the back window," the man said as he joined her on the porch.

She recognized the handsome older man as one of the church’s assistant reverends.

"I’m sorry." Hastily wiping away a stray tear, she explained, "I was late, and I didn’t want to interrupt."

"You can never be too late for church. Won’t you come in?" He beckoned to her, strangely touched by the sadness he sensed in the young woman.

"Actually, I think I’ve changed my mind. I’d better go," Honey replied.

She began walking toward the parking lot, and the reverend felt the sudden urge to stop her.

"Miss?" he called to her before she could leave the porch. "Please join us. No one should be alone at Christmas."

He was struck by the despair in her eyes when she turned back toward him, "I’m afraid I wouldn’t be very welcome, sir."

The man smiled gently at Honey, "Oh, but everyone is welcome at the manger. The Christmas angel says, ‘Fear not. I bring you tidings of great joy.’ "

Honey allowed the reverend to lead her across the paving stones and back to the front door.  But, as they both stepped inside the church’s vestibule, Honey panicked.  The contrast of the artificial heat inside from the fresh air outside was suffocating her.  Her heart beat madly, and she gulped for breath.  As the reverend opened the inner door to the sanctuary, Honey heard the choir singing. 

"O come, all ye faithful,
Joyful and triumphant,
Come ye, O come ye . . ."

The exultant voices sounded vaguely accusing to her ears, and she suddenly felt like the woman being dragged to her stoning.  She wasn’t faithful, joyful, or triumphant, and, when she saw the dark head and pair of strong shoulders in the back pew, Honey knew she could never go in.

"I’m sorry," Honey whispered brokenly and pulled away from the reverend.  "I can’t."

Barely controlling the sobs choking her, she ran out the church.

The rush of cold air from the open doors caused Brian Belden to look up in time to see the back of a golden head disappearing around the corner.  He knew that hair, knew that form, and, before he had time to stop and think, he was out of his seat and following her, ignoring the startled stares from those around him. 

"Honey!  Wait!"  Brian ran after her, his shoes slipping in the ice.

Honey had made it to her car when she heard him calling.  She supposed that she could get in and drive away before he had a chance to see her, and maybe Brian would think he had been mistaken.  Yet, like a child wanting to test just how hot the stove really was, she turned to face him. 

Oh, God.

This couldn’t be Brian.  He was so thin, so . . . changed.  That she was the cause sickened Honey.  She wanted to fall at his knees and beg for forgiveness.  She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss away the hurt.  But, she did none of those things.  Instead, Honey simply stared at him, drinking in the sight of his beloved face. 

With a wary hope flaring in his eyes, Brian asked in careful tones, "Why are you here, Honey?"  He had never before looked at her so guardedly, and her sudden shiver had nothing to do with the cold.

"Brian, I – " Honey began and then realized with an awful sense of fatefulness that it was useless to search for the right thing to say when she couldn’t say the words he wanted to hear. 

"Never mind.  I don’t want to know," he responded bitterly as he saw the resignation in her eyes.  Hope died, and his abrupt laughter sounded hollow.  "I don’t even know why I came out here." 

Honey flinched, when he suddenly sneered, "Why don’t you go back to the Manor House where you belong, Honey?"

The stars in the sky had become obscured by clouds, and icy snowflakes were being thrown down around them.  Brian turned to walk back to the church.

As her frozen heart cracked open, Honey felt as if she were standing on the edge of a slippery cliff.  She wasn’t ready to let him go, but stopping him would mean jumping off the cliff.  She yearned to feel Brian’s arms around her, though, to rest once more in the shadow of a steadfast love.  Breathless joy.  Screwing her courage to the sticking place, she held out her hand to him, "Brian, please don’t . . ."

He turned back to her and waited, not touching the offered hand.

"I . . . " She couldn’t do it.  All the courage in the world didn’t matter. She was damned, for even the truth could not undo what the past had wrought. 

Swallowing her tears, she let her hand drop back down to her side. "Merry Christmas, Brian."

"Merry Christmas, Madeleine."

The word pierced through her heart like a dagger, and she closed her eyes against the pain.  When she opened them, Brian was walking away from her, slowly disappearing as the snowflakes swirled around him.

Honey got in her car and drove away from the church and away from him.

Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore.
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more.

Through the years we all will be together,
If the Fates allow.
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now . . .

Woo-hoo!!! J My first full-length Trixie story! Ya’ll can’t imagine the smile on my face right now.

These characters are not my own (except for Zack Delanoy). They are the property of Random House Publishing. However, I have loved these characters for years and years, and I hope that I have treated them in a manner both honoring and befitting to the Trixie Belden series.

Many, many thanks to my editors – Kathy (KayRenee), Kaye (KayeKl), and Susan (Susansuth)! To each of you – I can’t tell you how much your support, encouragement, and enthusiasm for this story have meant to me! HUGE THANKS for all the helpful comments and for telling me those words that every writer likes to hear – "Yes, you should post it! No, it’s not too awful to post!" And, Susan – 4 words – You are my hero.

And, Dana! Well, Susan may have to share the title of hero with you! I am overwhelmed by your generosity. You’ve been told before, but I’ll tell you again – You totally rock!

Since this is my 1^st story, I’m dedicating it to my husband, Jason – a truly wonderful and long-suffering man who doesn’t mind when I sit at the computer all day long and who treats me like a real writer by understanding that when the characters are speaking to me, things like the laundry have to wait. (Should I order a pizza again, Sweetheart?)

The title, "Happy Golden Days of Yore", is, of course, taken from the song, "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas", probably my favorite secular Christmas song. (Details listed below.)

Several songs are used throughout this story without permission; they are as follows:

• "Angels We Have Heard On High" – 18^th century French carol & melody, arranged by John W. Peterson
  As a child, I spent many a Sunday in church singing this song with my friends exactly how Bobby, Terry, & Larry did.  If you’ve ever heard the song, you know why kids have fun "singing" this song. J

• "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" – lyrics by Ralph Bane, music by Hugh Martin

• "I’ll Be Home for Christmas" – lyrics by Kim Gannon, music by Walter Kent
  Also probably my favorite secular Christmas song – it’s okay to have 2 favorites!

• "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" – lyrics by Edmund Sears, music by Richard Willis

• "Joy to the World" – lyrics by Isaac Watts, music possibly by Handel, arranged by Lowell Mason

• "My Favorite Things" – lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II, music by Richard Rodgers

• "O Come, All Ye Faithful" – Latin hymn translated by Frederick Oakeley, from Wades’s Cantus Diversi

• "Silent Night, Holy Night" – lyrics by Joseph Mohr, music by Franz Gruber

• "Winter Wonderland" – lyrics by Dick Smith, music by Felix Bernard

Several movies are also mentioned in this story without permission; they are as follows:

• "A Charlie Brown Christmas" (1965) – written by Charles Schulz, directed by Bill Millendez

• "Frosty the Snowman" (1969) – written by Romeo Muller, directed by Jules Bass & Arthur Rankin, Jr.

• "It’s a Wonderful Life" (1946) – written by Philip Van Doren Stern, Frances Goodrich, et al, directed by Frank Capra

• "National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation" (1989) – written by John Hughes, directed by Jeremiah S. Chechik

• "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ (1964) – written by Robert May & Robert Muller, directed by Kizo Nagashima & Larry Roemer

• "The Sound of Music" (1965) – written by Howard Lindsay, Russel Crouse, et al, directed by Robert Wise