"Mama, please stop fooling me. Now I'm big enough to understand that there's no one called Santa Claus and he's never gonna bring gifts for us! This Christmas is also going to be the same; dull and sad, like last year."Nine years old Henry lamented in a mournful shriek. Hazel was fighting back tears and didn't know how to pacify her disturbed son. She glanced across the room and grimaced in annoyance. Her husband Robert was sprawled on the floor, sleeping, as if he was half dead. His cheap whiskey bottle had rolled under the couch. Hazel tried to breathe normally in