An old man sits at his desk on the second floor of his home on Christmas Eve, looking over old newspaper clippings. He gazes out of the window above his desk and watches the snow swirl by as if drawn by a tide. Footsteps pace their way up the stairs, 
"Papa? You ok?" 
  A soft, feminine voice called.
  "I'm alright, little one." 
  He called back. His granddaughter of fifteen years old walked up to him and saw the newspaper clippings. The few he had out were from September 1939, with many more in a manila folder sitting next to him.
"What's this?"
  She asked him inquisitively. He sighed and replied,
  "This is history, child. This is World War Two. I collected these after the war was over to try to piece together what had happened during those terrible, terrible years."
  She pulled out a folding chair from next to his desk,
   "I'm doing a project on World War two for school Papa, Mrs. Lois said that we could use whatever sources we could find, as long as they were accurate. Could I look over these with you?"

   "Sure thing, these here are from the very beginning of the war, when Germany invaded Poland and Gran Columbia invaded Argentina, though they tried to make it out like they were the good guys."

  The man fumbles around in the folder, looking for the next set of articles.