Tim Blake waits for his sixteen-year-old daughter, Sylvia, to arrive home on Christmas Eve. Snow is falling and he's worried about her new driving skills. Sylvia is a bright girl and he is confident in her judgement, so he sit by the phone in case she calls.
He drifts into a restless sleep and dreams about the year he turned sixteen. It was early Novemeber and the corner lot was setting up to sell Christmas trees.
It is a year he'll never forget.
It is the year he started to believe in Santa Claus.