It was a splendid day with brilliant sunlight, a gentle frost, and trees adorned in a pristine blanket of snow. Ann strolled down the street, admiring storefronts adorned with vibrant stars, plush reindeer, and bears. Christmas trees, aglow with sparkling lights and surrounded by swirling snowflakes, filled the air with a sense of the impending holiday. The enticing aroma of vanilla cake drifted from the bakery, evoking vivid childhood memories that felt as if they had occurred just yesterday. In her mind's eye, Ann pictured herself as a young girl decorating the Christmas tree with balls, shiny icicles, and delicate white snowflakes. She intentionally placed all the snowmen, bunnies, and gnomes on the lower branches for later play. Ann cherished the sound of ringing bells, the warm glow of burning candles, and the abundance of sweets and nuts. Having already sent a letter to Santa, the lingering anticipation of magic enveloped her. Perhaps it was precisely this expectation of a miracle that enchanted her, transporting her to a dreamland. Though many years have passed, Ann is no longer that little girl. However, the "childish expectation of a miracle" still resides within her, fueling her dreams and hopes.

It was a fabulous day with bright sun, light frost and snow-covered trees. Ann walked down the street, looking at storefronts decorated with colorful stars, plush reindeer and bears. Christmas trees sparkling with lights, swirling snowflakes and fresh air enhanced the feeling of the coming holiday. The smell of vanilla cake wafted from the bakery, bringing back such vivid memories of childhood that it seemed as if it had happened just yesterday... She saw herself as a small girl decorating the Christmas tree with balls, shiny icicles and white snowflakes. She deliberately (specially?) hung all the snowmen, bunnies and gnomes on the lower branches in order to play with them later. Ann just adored all those ringing bells and burning candles, plenty of sweets and nuts. She'd already sent a letter to Santa, and now the lingering anticipation of magic did not leave her. Perhaps, it was precisely this expectation of a miracle that enchanted and carried (her?) away to a dreamy place (?) the dreamland... So many years have passed, she is no longer that little girl, but that “childish expectation of a miracle” still lives in her, making her dream and hope.

It was a fabulous day glowing with sunshine, and blanketed in gentle frost and snow coated trees. Ann strolled along the street as she glanced into storefronts decorated with colorful stars, plush reindeer and bears. Christmas trees sparkling with lights, snowflakes swirling, and a freshness in the air awoke in her the spirit of the approaching holiday. A smell of vanilla cake wafted from the bakery and rekindled such vivid childhood memories that it seemed as if "now" were "then" ... She recalled herself as a small girl decorating the Christmas tree with balls, shiny icicles and white snowflakes. She would meticulously hang each snowman, bunny and gnome on the lower branches where she might play with it later. Ann just adored all those ringing bells and burning candles, and the plenitude of sweets and nuts. Her letter would have already been on its way to Santa, and a lingering anticipation of magical revelations would be ever present in her thoughts. Perhaps it was this, the expectation of a miracle coming, that captivated her, beguiled her, and carried her back to that dreamland... Although so many years now separate her from that little girl, her “childish expectation of a miracle” endures and permits her still to dream and hope.

It was a fabulous day with a bright sun, light frost, and snow-covered trees. Ann walked down the street, looking at storefronts decorated with colorful stars, plush reindeer, and bears. Christmas trees sparkling with lights, swirling snowflakes, and fresh air enhanced the feeling of the coming holiday. The smell of vanilla cake wafted from the bakery, bringing back such vivid memories of childhood that it seemed as if it had happened just yesterday... She saw herself as a small girl decorating the Christmas tree with balls, shiny icicles, and white snowflakes. She deliberately (especially?) hung all the snowmenbunniess, and gnomes on the lower branches to play with them later. Ann just adored all those ringing bells and burning candles, plenty of sweets and nuts. She'd already sent a letter to Santa, and now the lingering anticipation of magic did not leave her. Perhaps, it was precisely this expectation of a miracle that enchanted and carried me away to the dreamland... So many years have passed, and she is no longer that little girl, but that “childish expectation of a miracle” still lives in her, making her dream and wish.