“Just tell me about it, so I can look forward to it, because I’ll have to receive it when your job is done.”
The Giver smiled. “Lie down,” he said. “I’m happy to give it to you.”
Jonas felt the joy of it as soon as the memory began. Sometimes it took a while for him to get his bearings, to find his place.
But this time he fit right in and felt the happiness that pervaded the memory.
He was in a room filled with people, and it was warm, with firelight glowing on a hearth.
He could see through a window that outside it was night, and snowing.
There were colored lights: red and green and yellow, twinkling from a tree which was, oddly, inside the room.
On a table, lighted candles stood in a polished golden holder and cast a soft, flickering glow.
He could smell things cooking, and he heard soft laughter. A golden-haired dog lay sleeping on the floor.
On the floor there were packages wrapped in brightly colored paper and tied with gleaming ribbons.
As Jonas watched, a small child began to pick up the packages and pass them around the room:
to other children, to adults who were obviously parents, and to an older, quiet couple, man and woman, who sat smiling together on a couch.
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