Oh, to read A Child’s Christmas in Wales over the holidays during a pandemic, with three of our four parents deceased, my 91-year-old mother-in-law in lockdown in her retirement village six hours away, and time on our hands to reminisce about our childhood Christmases, when our families were healthy and intact, and all was right with the world. How many such thoughts, such essays, has Dylan Thomas’s tender story prompted over the years? Does that make my thoughts, my essay a cliché? Mayb...
