The truth about Santa Claus!

  1. Zsuzsy Bee profile image88
    Zsuzsy Beeposted 9 years ago

    When I read this I thought I wanted to share.... Merry Christmas

    The Truth About 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

    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:

  2. gamergirl profile image60
    gamergirlposted 9 years ago

    I don't care if the story's fake, it made me teary eyed this early in the morning.

    I love you Zsuzsy!

    1. Zsuzsy Bee profile image88
      Zsuzsy Beeposted 9 years agoin reply to this

      Charlotte, I felt the same when I read it, just a little warm and fuzzy .
      luv ya too and have a super Christmas. zs