Yes Virginia, I Saw Santa
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. I know because I saw him in my house, in the middle of the night, on Christmas Eve. True story.
I was probably six or seven years old at the time. We had just moved from a cozy little starter home to what seemed to me at the time to be a cavernous old mansion. Many rooms had not been lived in for years. They were badly in need of redecorating. So initially I stayed in the one downstairs bedroom as the whole upstairs needed work.
At night, this house was noisier than an old rocking chair. There were creaks and groans, bumps and shudders. My folks said it was the furnace, or the house settling, or some such nonsense. But the noises still scared me if I happened to awake in the middle of the night. That happened Christmas Eve the first year we were there.
I awoke in the middle of the night to some sound coming from the next room, I thought. That's where our Christmas tree stood too. Throwing off my covers, I was able to crawl to the foot of my bed and peer around the corner through the doorway into the other room. I saw a flash of red. Instantly, I dove back under the blankets.
Now, that flash of red could have been the skewed reflection of a taillight through the ice on the window. Or it could have been one of our tree ornaments, catching a glint by the corner streetlight. But I knew better. It was Santa doing his job. And the next morning when there were presents under that tree, my suspicions were confirmed.
Despite the fact that many of my contemporaries in school had begun to doubt the existence of Santa, I persisted that I saw him. I even repeated the story to my own boys as they were growing up. The first time I told them as wee little ones, they were in awe. But some magic dies young. The next year I told the same story, they were more skeptical. Their response was something to the effect of, "That's cool dad, but too bad you didn't get a picture." The year after that, I was forbidden to repeat the story when they were in the company of their friends.
Oh, well. Maybe someday if I have grandkids, I'll have the chance to tell the story all over again. But, Virginia, trust me. I saw Santa.
posted by Big Dave T @ 9:16 AM
8 Comments:
Good for you Dave, I like a man who knows what he sees and will stick up for it with doubting friends, 'n I believe you mate.
I believe you! The kids these days are too sofisticated. Merry Christmas.
Great story. Have a Merry Christmas, Dave. Enjoy your holiday.
Oh, I believe you Dave!
I believe you too Dave. Your old house sounds like it was interesting.
Merry Christmas!
I believe you!!
When I was about the same age, my mother took me with her to the hair dresser. Santa was there. (In retrospect, it seems an odd place for him, but...) I sat on his lap, as per the standard routine. As I remember, I questioned his authenticity. He told me to pull on his beard. He said to pull hard. The whiskers were real!! He gave me a wrapped gift. I opened it to find a little vinyl case, for carrying ballet slippers. I was taking ballet lessons!! How did he know??
My mother told me YEARS and YEARS later that she had given him the gift to give to me. I'd grown up believing it a tremendous coincidence...or proof positive that Santa really does know!!
I believe you!!
When I was about the same age, my mother took me with her to the hair dresser. Santa was there. (In retrospect, it seems an odd place for him, but...) I sat on his lap, as per the standard routine. As I remember, I questioned his authenticity. He told me to pull on his beard. He said to pull hard. The whiskers were real!! He gave me a wrapped gift. I opened it to find a little vinyl case, for carrying ballet slippers. I was taking ballet lessons!! How did he know??
My mother told me YEARS and YEARS later that she had given him the gift to give to me. I'd grown up believing it a tremendous coincidence...or proof positive that Santa really does know!!
I used to see the boogy man when I was a little kid, but nobody believed me. So why not Santa?
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