The snow fell down heavily on us as we started to prepare the Christmas decorations. We had everyone here except my uncle, who was missing for several years. Suddenly the phone rang, it was my uncle. I was enthusiastic to hear that he will be returning home for Christmas. Several hours later, the doorbell rang. I rushed to the door, eager to look at him again and there he was. He grew a fuzzy beard after those years of exile and wore a big brown coat on him. I welcomed him inside, greeting him before presenting him to the rest of the family. My father proceeded to hug him with brotherly love. My uncle then sat down and told stories of his adventures in Europe and Africa. The challenges and experiences that followed my uncle took our ears away by its fascination. He even brought presents from those lands. We ate and we laughed together the entire Christmas. That was the best holiday I had in a long time.
