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This year, I thought I’d outdone myself. I had tickets to The Nutcracker hidden beneath the tree, wrapped carefully and tucked far back where curious little hands wouldn’t find them too soon. I couldn’t wait to see her face.

Christmas Eve unfolded exactly as I’d imagined. The house glowed with lights. The ham roasted in the oven. Mya twirled through the living room in her red dress, laughing as the skirt flared around her knees. Later, she climbed into bed in her Rudolph pajamas, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy with excitement.

“This is going to be the best Christmas,” she said sleepily.