A charming holiday fable from the popular musical group Mannheim Steamroller captures the true meaning of Christmas as it brings to life the history and traditions of the American holiday. Chip Davis, a Grammy Award-winning composer and musician, is credited with introducing what has become known as New Age music more than twenty-five years ago. He is the creator and leading member of Mannheim Steamroller, which has sold more than twenty million copies of their four holiday albums, and is founder and president of American Gramaphone, a record company. He lives with his wife and children near Omaha, Nebraska. Chapter One Evan Darling trudged home from school, kicking at snow banks and grumbling. Only 4:30, and the afternoon sky was already dark. It had been snowing all week and the toboggan run at the end of his street was perfectly packed. But there was no way his mother would let him go out sledding alone tonight, and his dad would be working late at the store, as he had every night since the beginning of December. Cold water seeped in over the top of his boot as he tried, but failed, to clear a huge slush puddle near the curb. Evan longed for spring. He imagined the big green field behind his house, freshly mowed -- perfect for an after-dinner baseball game. He thought about how his dad always made sure to leave work early so they could play a game of catch before dinner. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, Evan closed his eyes, letting the thick snowflakes melt on his lids. He pictured sunshine, white fluffy clouds, new green leaves against a bright blue sky. He opened his eyes. Bare tree branches stood in black silhouette against the overcast sky and piles of snow -- turned gray and sooty by traffic -- slopped up and over the curbs. Evan sighed, feeling as though spring might never come again. With cold water squishing in his boot at each step, Evan turned onto Main Street. The little shops lining both sides of the street were bustling with people rushing in and out, their arms full of bags and packages. Dark-green pine garland twisted around the poles of the streetlights, which were just beginning to flicker on. Small white lights framed the windows of some shops, while bright red and green flashing lights bordered the doorways of others. Cars moved slowly down the street, carefully navigating around the many shoppers crossing the road. Above the street, stars outlined in tiny white lights hung on cables stretched from one side to the other. Main Street glowed with Christmas spirit, as if to cancel out the advancing darkness of the winter afternoon. But Evan's mood was as gloomy as the snow clouds piling up in the late afternoon sky, and the blazing lights and cheerful decorations did nothing to lift his spirits. In fact, as far as Evan was concerned, the whole Christmas thing was completely out of control. Take the annual Holidayle Elementary School Christmas pageant, for instance. Evan's class had had to stay late to work on their number. Even though the performance for the whole school was tomorrow, half the class still couldn't remember their lines, and the other half only wanted to talk about all the presents they were expecting to get on Christmas, which was just three days away. Evan had made the mistake of saying that he'd hoped Santa would bring him a new CD player for his room, and a couple of the sixth graders had overheard. They had teased him mercilessly before hurling him into the snow banks outside of school. Not because of the CD player, but for saying he'd hoped Santa would bring it. Evan finally said he just pretended to believe because of his little sister, but even as he said it, it felt like a betrayal. The idea of Santa -- who Evan pictured as taller and thinner, kind of like Professor Dumbledore from Harry Potter, only in long red robes -- was one of the few things Evan thought was really special about Christmas. Santa -- and Christmas carols. Evan loved Christmas carols. Listening to songs like "Silent Night" or "White Christmas" gave him a warm feeling that started in his chest and spread through his whole body. He knew all the words to all the songs that had to do with Christmas, and he loved to sing them. To Evan, they were like magical incantations that conjured up the very season. Sure, some of them made no sense at all, like "Here We Come a'Wassailing." He thought that maybe wassailing was some winter sport, like parasailing, only in the snow. But it didn't really matter what it was about -- he still loved the song. Evan began to hum as he walked down the street. By the time he'd worked his way through "Joy to the World," he was feeling a little better. At the end of Main Street, Evan saw another Christmas sight that made him smile. He broke into a jog and crossed over to the parking lot next to the local pharmacy and market. The parking lot was empty of cars. At the far end, an old camper with a flat trailer attached to the back was pulled up nex