Charles Ingalls:
The winter of '96 was a bad one. My family was used to nature's cold hand around Christmas. We had learned to survive her frozen fury. But that year, nature laid a warm cheek on Walnut Grove. The snow began to melt in the high Country even before it's white blanket touched the flat land. Steam rose from the rivers as the sun warmed the flowing waters. It would be an easy Christmas for my daughter and her family, or so she thought.
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 08:39

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