Twas the night before Christmas 2024 and all through the house, not a creature was stirring.... Merry Christmas Irma, Elle and Laura.

Dear Irma, I trust this CHristmas Eve letter finds you, and our two daughters well. This time of year was always special for your late father-in-law and, by extension, for me. IT is my hope that it remains, or has become, a special time for you too, Irma. Meeting a Canadian in OKayama City back in 1990 changed your lifepath just as much as meeting a Mexican changed mine. This morning I wish to count it among our family's blessings. Elle and Laura are now around the same age you and I were when we first decided to share our lives together and form a family. While we didn't really know each other well enough yet, we hitched our wagon to the Fates and took the plunge. Do young people still do that? Not with the same ease and confidence, it would seem. All of us are a product of our childhood and we carry that legacy, like a turtle carries its shell, all the days of our lives. Do you recall the three lines of French poetry that I once composed and gave to you? "Le moi, pour toi, je le risque. Le toi, pour moi, tu le risque. Le tout, pour nous, risqu'on le." If you, or any of you, ever have questions or feel the need to talk, let me know. For me, those three lines sum up my thinking back in 1991. in the interim, may the three of you bask in the knowlesge that you are well, that your extended family is well, that each of us is living as healthy and productive a life as we can, and that love is often expressed implicitly if not explicitly. MAy the Sprit of Christmas, like my momoties of my DAd (who cherished December 25 more than anyone I ever knew) inhabit each of you this week, this month and for the coming 12 months. Peace on earth and goodwill to all. Merry Christmas 2025 and Happy New Year 2026. Love, Bern