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The snow storm
It was the morning of Christmas Eve. Dad looked out of the window at the cold, grey sky and sighed. 'I hope it doesn't snow any more before I get back from the hospital,' he said.
That afternoon Mum and the new baby were coming home. Dad was worried. Their cottage was on the side of a steep hill. If it snowed heavily, the lanes might be blocked and the cottage would be cut off by snowdrifts. 'I'd better st off early,' he said, 'so I get there and back in time. I wish Tessa would hurry up.'
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