Miracle. It’s one of those words that’s often tossed about, especially at this time of year. Just Google the phrase “Christmas miracle” and see what comes up — miracles, it seems, are no longer just on 34th Street. They are, in fact, everywhere — and on this particular day, they make up a large part of my life.
Today, is my 15th birthday. Geez, it was only a few days ago I was 12 — or, rather, being an uncle and having to purchase a Christmas gift for my 12-year-old niece.
Never mind, though — today I am celebrating the miracle of being 15.
December 12, 1997, was like many of those Long Island winter days — not sure if it wanted to be cold enough to snow or warm enough to rain. The result was a gray, damp, slushy mix that left a coating of black ice on the pavement — and this was my commute home.
Nitty Gritty Dirt Man 