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Of careening down an icy hill,

Screaming, “Look, Mom! No hands!”

It’s so fun! What a thrill!

The wind in your hair,

The snow on your face

Whether you’re taking your time

Or part of a race.

The sledding hill in town

Is another oft overlooked gem.

At least if you’re beyond the age of twenty

And think it’s not for you, but for them.

Today “them” includes you,

Children of all ages and sizes.

Bundle up and sled on down.

The glee you feel will beat any prizes.

But prizes there will be

For the team that goes all out.

Document your sledding journey with pictures and videos.

We want to hear you scream and shout!

Sleds will be waiting for you

On the hill at the high school.

Get ready to giggle and fly on down.

We think you’ll find this stop pretty cool!

Chapter 22

Gabe

“A little to the right. Nope . . . not that far—back a ways. Nudge it just a hair . . . stop! Hold it. Step back and let me see without you in the way!”

I’ve got my head buried in the pine branches of my mom’s Christmas tree as she—unhelpfully—directs my movements. I love my mom. I do. She single-handedly raised me into the man I am today. I have her to thank for everything I’ve become. I would gladly take a bullet for her. And right now, if she asks me to readjust this Christmas tree one more time, I’m booking the next flight to the North Pole to get away from her.

“Tip it to your right, Gaber.”

I suck in an evergreen-infused breath and ask the good Lord to beam me down an ounce of extra patience. The woman is not used to being off her feet, and I am not used to taking her constant directions.

“There! That’s it!”