the way my kids understand about Santa Claus when it's the time in their
life that they have doubts about if Santa is real.
NO Santa Claus?
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid.
I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big
sister dropped the bomb: "There
is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!" My Grandma was
not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I
knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the
truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier
when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they
were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told
her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" She
snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going
around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your
coat, and let's go." "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even
finished my second world- famous cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town
that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its
doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.
That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy
something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car. "Then
she turned and walked out of
Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but
never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big
and crowded, full of people scrambling
to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood
there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy,
and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my
family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who
went to my church.
I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker.
He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me
in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.
Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out
to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the
teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker
didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the
ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a
coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real
warm, and he would like that.
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter
asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at
me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I
didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and
wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of
the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and
ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that
Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby
Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever
officially, one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept
noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.
Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered,
"get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the
present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety
of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to
open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed
the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby
Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors
about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous.
Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.
May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that
care....
And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!
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