Text Christmas was a【C1】______affair when I grew up. There were just my parents and I. I vowed【C2】______someday I' d marry and have six children, and at Christmas my house would【C3】______with energy and love. I found the man【C4】______shared my dream, but we had not reckoned【C5】______the possibility of【C6】______. Undaunted, we applied【C7】______adoption, and then he arrived. We called him Our Christmas Boy【C8】______he came to us during that season of joy. Then nature surprised us again. We【C9】______two biological children to the family—not as many as we had【C10】______for, but three made an entirely satisfactory【C11】______. As Our Christmas Boy grew, he made it clear that only he had the expertise to select and【C12】______the Christmas tree. He rushed the season, starting his gift list in November. He pressed us into singing carols, our froglike voices contrasting【C13】______his【C14】______gift of perfect pitch. Each holiday he【C15】______us up, leading us through a round of merry chaos. Then, on his 26th Christmas, he left us in a car accident【C16】______his way home to his wife and infant daughter. But first he had stopped【C17】______the family home to decorate our tree. 【C18】______-stricken, his father and I sold our home, where memories【C19】____________every room, and moved away. Seventeen years later, we grew old enough to return home, and【C20】____________into a small quiet house, like the house of my childhood. Our other son and daughter had married and had begun their own Christmas traditions in another part of the country. … 【C1】