A Grandpa For Christmas -

The first two days were a standoff of sorts. Leo wanted tablets and cartoons; Arthur wanted silence and the morning paper. The house felt too small for the both of them.

For Arthur, the holidays had become a quiet routine of televised carols and store-bought fruitcake. That was until his daughter, frantic and overworked, dropped off seven-year-old Leo for a week. Arthur looked at the boy—all untied shoelaces and missing front teeth—and felt a sudden, sharp panic. He knew how to fix a leaky faucet or balance a checkbook, but he had forgotten how to see the world through the lens of wonder. A Grandpa For Christmas

The smell of pine needles and peppermint always brings him back—not to the Christmases he spent as a father, but to the one where he finally learned how to be a grandfather. The first two days were a standoff of sorts

"Leo," Arthur said, his voice gravelly but warm. "Grab your coat. We have work to do." For Arthur, the holidays had become a quiet