Night comes early in northern Quebec. We have eaten our supper at five, as usual, and are now wondering how to spend the two hours until bedtime. It is too dark, too cold to even consider going outside, so we have to make our own fun indoors. TV has not yet reached our community, so that is not on our radar screen at all...Should we make some puzzles? I love that because of the borders - rows of toys all around the perimeter... Listen to records? Perhaps Alice in Wonderland? (Down, down, down she goes, bumpety bumpety bump...Landing on the bottom with a thumpety thumpety thump)... Play our paper-projectile game? Don't know. Nothing seems quite right. I am restless.

Then the doorbell rings. Laura and I rush into the kitchen, down the stairs and open the door...Oh, wonderful sight. Wonderful sound. A little boy around our age is standing there and in his arms is a pile of comic books about a foot high...Do you want to trade comics?...DO we? Yes!...And we rush to collect our own pile...Soon we are swapping Superman, Richie Rich, Archie and Veronica - even some of Little Archie, and - oh joy!- here are a few classic comics: Last of the Mohicans, Uncle Tom's Cabin...The night has been transformed. We now have several hours worth of reading...We gladly get into bed because - we have matching night lights over our matching single beds! And Mom is awfully reasonable about letting us read until we are tired. Delight. Sheer delight!