I've always had a special place in my heart for 1947's Miracle on 34th Street, but this year for some reason it hit particularly hard. Seeing Kris Kringle's cane in Susie's house brought this sentimental fool to tears.
Maybe it's the film's message of faith that hit me hard. A much more cynical world today wouldn't think much of this message. But I love it.
Reminds me of this bit of so-called humanism from Terry Pratchett's Hogfather:
That's faith, plain and simple. I'll always recognize faith in its street clothes.
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