I've been returning to Wisconsin for Christmas for the last years. It is always a treat to meet my brother at the airport and begin my visiting with my family and friends.

One tradition that I have is I always stay at my brother Jim's house for a few days. During that time, we take a walk either on Christmas Eve or usually Christmas Day.

One of those walks lives in our memories and we've recalled it more than once in conversations with others.

It was Christmas Day, late afternoon. We decided that it was the time for our annual walk. I put on my warmest clothes and socks, hat, gloves, boots. We crunched over the snow down the sidewalk.

Jim lives in Washington Heights, which is right next to a neighborhood called Washington Highlands. Washington Highlands captures the imagination as soon as you enter and cross over the first broad boulevard. Tree-lined streets, stripped now of leaves and standing dark against the winter sky, border the snow encasing the sidewalks. And the homes set back just a bit are large and stone and solid and glowing with Christmas. Glimpses of Christmas trees glistening with lights and women in dresses serving platters of food at long and laden dining room tables, delighted us as we had already had our family dinner the night before. It was fun to peek in on the festivities of other families.

On this night, we walked down one boulevard and up the next, past a park, and an ice-covered creek, under a bridge where our voices echoed against the walls. The snow created a hush and gently some new flakes began drifting down. The night was mild and it was one of those times when we were both animated with conversation and there was so much to tell. We laughed and talked and looked into the glowing windows telling which homes we liked the best and which decorations were the most appealing.

The snow fell gently around us and suddenly bells began to chime. We stopped in our tracks and looked at eachother. The bells of the nearby church chimed Silent Night. The snow came down. The trees were black against the sky, Christmas trees twinkled behind leaded glass windowpanes in home after home down the block.

"We must be in a movie," I laughed!

"No kidding!," JIm said.

 Neither of us could talk, we listened to the chimes play, .... sleep in heavenly peace.

And it was that peace.

Soon after, we walked the few blocks back to Jim's cozy home and his Christmas tree. It was a night to remember.