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 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, 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
> growing ten-dollar bill with
> 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! (Author Unknown)
