In my family, we have a little something called The Christmas Miracle. It started when I was younger, working in New York, and had a series of rather harrowing trips home to my sister’s house in South Carolina for Christmas. One year my flight was cancelled. Another year, a surprise snowstorm snarled traffic, and my flight took off while I was still in the Midtown Tunnel. Yet another year I went to LaGuardia instead of Newark. Sigh.
