The second-grade Christmas Gala came and Santa was hosting a gift exchange. Shopping with my parents, we settled on a box of 24 colored pencils. We wrapped the pencils and hurried to the Gala but we were late and I was one of the last, tired kids to sit on Santa’s knee. I tore the familiar-looking paper from the gift Santa gave me: 24 colored pencils. A long, sad walk to the car. On the drive home my Dad said, “With those 24 pencils, you can make every, possible color.” I began to feel good about the possibilities.