Peering up the chimney in search of Old Saint Nick.

When I was six, we moved to Montreal into a newly developed neighbourhood that had recently been farmland. I have a vivid memory of our first Christmas there.

On Christmas Eve, I came down with a slight fever. Despite feeling unwell, I was still brimming with excitement, convinced that Santa Claus would be arriving that night.

In the middle of the night, something stirred me from my sleep. I was certain I heard the magical sound of reindeer hooves and sleigh bells coming from the proximity of our roof.

I remember staggering to my bedroom window, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was causing the sound. Though I didn’t see anything, I remember the snow softly falling and sparkling in the light from the street lamps, which only added to the magic of the moment.

Though I later realized my fever might have caused a bit of a hallucination, I still firmly believe it was real, not just my imagination.

This image is my tribute to that unforgettable Christmas.