“On Christmas Eve, my parents would take my brother and me to look at the fancy lights nearby. At the end of the night, as we drove across a long bridge on the way home, every year my mum would point to the sky and exclaim, ‘There’s Santa, he can’t beat us home or he won’t leave any presents!’ So, my dad would race home, and we would run to bed in hopes that Santa hadn’t tried to stop by yet. I would never be able to sleep because I was too excited. I’d stay quiet and try and listen for him. Sadly, I always fell asleep before I heard anything.” —Peyton Royce