Monday, December 01, 2008

Makes you feel good all over!

Is There a Santa?
A must read, needed at this time of year for all the little ones & non-believers.

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 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 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 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.


Kathleen said...

Oh I love this post!!


God Bless all the Santa's!

Twisted Fencepost said...

If more of us would/could do this, there would be a lot less "cold",
Bobby Deckers, in the world!


This is a lovely story. And very inspirational as it comes when my 9 year olds are doing a lot of questioning. It reminds me of the lady who bought the home that was being foreclosed and gave it back to the woman who lost it. When they asked her why he did it, her answer was "because we need to help each other".

I have been away from blog world for a while now, because of the Thanksgiving holidays. I was so sorry to see that Abe has been so very ill. I hope that he gets to come home tomorrow as planned, and is back to his usual self as soon as possible.

Winifred said...

Lovely story.

Hope Abe is well enough to come home.

Renie Burghardt said...

A nice story with a good moral. Thanks for sharing.


Nancy said...

I've had this one before but so glad to see it again...I will copy it and send it out again. Great little story!!!!!

(((((( HUGS ))))))

Nancy said...

Back to the story....the school used to call me years ago and tell me they had a child who needed boots, a coat, mittens, whatever, and I would take my kids' grown-out-of things to the school. Seems my kids were telling their teachers that their mom would bring clothes for other kids who needed them. I always saved their "too-small" things for times like that. I will never forget one time when my son came home in first grade and said "so and so" doesn't have nice clothes like Tammy, his sister, had. He went on to tell me that her mommy had died, and she lived with her daddy and that he wasn't well. So I phoned his teacher that was true what he had told me. So the next day I took a lot of cute little outfits to the school. The teacher took the little girl into the bathroom in the back of the classroom and dressed her all up. When she came out, all the children clapped for her. That little girl never forgot that day. Years later, when she was going to be married, that teacher got an invitation to her wedding. This teacher and I have been friends ever since. We talked back then and said WE felt like Santa Claus that day! So it is true...Santa Claus does exist in all of us, in one way or another!

(((((( HUGS ))))))