When I was a kid the night before Christmas was the longest night in the world.

There were only one or two clocks in our house as a general rule, and eventually eight of us kids. To forestall endless repetition of the question "What time is it?" our parents loaned us one of the clocks, and many times we'd sleep in only one or two rooms, waiting together.

Each in turn would wake, and quietly, so quietly, attempt to turn the luminescent dial towards ourselves, believing it possible that we would not rouse the others. All around us was darkness. Silence reigned. So did fear. We did not dare to stir from our room, for fear of frightening Santa Claus and breaking the charm of Christmas.

And each time the clock showed that absolutely no time had passed at all. The world had come to a dead sto…