I LOOK MORE LIKE a bundle of laundry than a twinkle in anyone’s eye. It is my first Christmas, one to which I am blithely indifferent, swaddled in blankets and cradled in my father’s arms. I was the fifth of six children, and sense from the absence of any baby book that there was simply no time after my entry into the world to document the birth of yet another Ezzell child. Lookin...