[GeoStL] The Magic of Santa Claus
- From: "Bernie" <happykraut@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: "Geo" <geocaching@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2006 06:48:34 -0600
-
The Magic of 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 I thought of Bobby
Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right
behind me in Mrs. Pollock's second grade 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
ingered 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 in Christmas
paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it (a
little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible).
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 everyday, have the heart
of a child and may you always believe every day of your life
in the magic of Santa Claus.
Merry Christmas. Bernie
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