Henry drove down the tree-lined back highway on his way home like he did every night.The snow clouds blocked out any of the night sky above and the light flurries that slid off his windshield on the interstate now started to come down a little thicker and began to stick to the glass.Listening to a holiday radio station to put him a good mood after a long day at work, his favorite Christmas song was just coming on.

Hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells

All seem to say, ...