Triggers

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The night was cold and temperatures were predicted to drop even further by the time we would head home from a pleasant dinner at my son's. We laughed as our two grandkids, Henry and Lucy, kept us entertained. Their favorite is the Animal Game: Someone thinks of an animal while the others try to guess its identity. A four-year old's version of twenty questions. Outside it began to snow and Henry dropped his spoon. "It's snowing! Santa Claus is coming tonight!" With two weeks yet to go, the red-suited reindeer herder was still at the North Pole. Henry was crushed and no words would soothe him. Snow triggers Santa Claus. We each have our triggers. Mine's Tosca's opening overture which fills me with excitement and anticipation. Perhaps the smell of hot apple pie, spring's first perfume, or the lights lowering in the listening room triggers your own. I hope for Henry's sake it snows tonight. He'll be watching, just before bedtime.
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Paul McGowan

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