Sunday, December 20, 2009

Do You believe in Santa?

I received this story in an email from a friend :)

I BELIEVE IN 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 way my big sister dropped the bomb:

"There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies now 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 new 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, 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!
Merry Christmas to all...

10 comments:

  1. What a wonderful and beautiful story! That touches my heart to know there are people out there like that and makes me realize that the world isn't all bad like the news seems to broadcast every day.
    That makes me want to do something like that!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you for sharing this story!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I found your blog through the Etsy forum - it's adorable and nicely laid out.

    ReplyDelete
  4. What a wonderful story and we all know a "Bobby Decker". Time to get a gift ready!!!

    Wishing you a wonderful Sunday afternoon and a blessed Christmas!


    http://christieottage.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
  5. That is such a wonderful story. Thanks so much for sharing it with us.

    Willow

    ReplyDelete
  6. What a wonderful story. you brought tears of joy to my eyes. I've always believed in the magic of Santa Clause & always will. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  7. What a beautiful story! May Santa Claus live in all of us, always!

    ReplyDelete
  8. What is the craziest thing your parents ever did to try to get you to believe in Santa Claus?

    ReplyDelete

Thank-you so much for commenting! I love to hear from you!

 

Design by Custom Blog Designs/FreeStyleMama Creations