I set down my medical bag and removed my gloves. I then removed my hat and coat, which I had to shake free from the clinging snow. Holmes had been busy while I was out. A wreath hung over the mantle of the fireplace, festive garland was strung around the book cases and three bright red Christmas stockings hung from the mantle.

My fingertips were cold to the bone. I tried rubbing them to increase the blood flow and get some warmth to them.

"Mrs. Hudson brought up a bowl of warmed punch. I suggest you partake of it." Holmes said as he stood back to admire his Christmas decorations.

"An excellent suggestion," I said, and proceeded to fill a cup with punch. Sipping it, I was pleased to find a cup of warm Highland Christmas Punch. For you who someday may be reading this; Highland punch warms the body and memories of days past. The glow from the fireplace and the yellow flicker from the gas lamps. Together with the Christmas decorations, the sight and sounds. What better place than 221b Baker Street at Christmas time. It is in itself a gift.

I was about to take my chair by the fireplace. But before I ventured too far, I returned to the punch bowl and refilled my cup.

"Hold on, Watson, I will join you," Holmes said, filling his cup. Cups clinked together and a silent nod and a sip of warmed punch.

"Rather festive looking, Holmes," I said between sips.

"Yes, more so with each cup," he replied.

"Huh?"... Oh, no, really Holmes. You have done a grand job of decorating. But Holmes, I always meant to ask." Here I paused and sipped at my punch.

"Go on, Watson, you always meant to ask what?"

Setting down my cup, "Well, it is the stockings hung from the mantle. I can understand one for you and one for me. But the third?" I asked. Holmes finished his cup and set it on the tray by the punch bowl.

The third stocking, my friend, is the most important. It is from my youth. As a young boy whenever we would decorate for the Christmas season, my mother would always have one extra stocking hung from the mantle. She would set us down and remind us all of the reason for this little Christmas stocking. At Christmas we celebrate the holiday by giving and receiving gifts: father new gloves, mother a shawl, grandfather could use a new pipe, and on and on. But lest we forget; Christmas is first a Holy day - a Birthday. And should not the Birthday Boy receive a gift? But, what kind of gift can we give to Him? Something He would really like? For us to be good. We can do this by doing good. So mother would have each of us write down our good deeds on slips of paper all during Advent. No matter how big or small. Then we would give them to mother, who stuffed them into the little Christmas stocking. Christmas morning we would find the stocking empty and we would be told how happy the Birthday Boy is with our gifts. For every good deed is a gift of hope and love. So the third little Christmas stocking is there for the most important reason. Les we forget. Merry Christmas, Watson."