| Santa Claus | |||||||||||||||||||
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The line seemed impossibly long. Every once in a while, when some of the bigger kids moved to the right or to the left, Becky could see just a glimpse of red and white, but it seemed like the longer she stood in the line the more remote was the possibility that she would ever actually reach the front of it. She didn't want to be here anyway, but her mama had made such a big deal about going to see 'Santa'. And since she didn't want to disappoint mama she had not put up very much of a fuss about standing in this interminably long line. So here she stood, waiting to sit on the lap of some fat old geezer who was, in all likelihood an alcoholic who couldn't hold a regular job... "and probably one who likes to pinch little girls bottoms at that," she thought cynically. The line moved very slowly as first one child and then another, all with a head full of dreams about this doll or that electric race car, spilled their guts to the geezer. Becky had quit believing in the myth of Santa Claus very abruptly at the age of five, three years earlier, when her father had been killed by a drunken driver on Christmas eve while on his way home from the store with last minute presents for her and her mother. She had decided right then and there that if Santa Claus were real, he would have somehow stopped her daddy from being killed. But, in order to please mama, here she stood, slowly moving for a long time until finally she was at he head of the line and her turn was next. As the little boy ahead of her told 'Santa' what he wanted, she thought about her daddy and how much she missed him... especially at this time of the year. Finally she heard the elf person, a teenager of undeterminable gender, call next and as the little boy got down from the lap of the old fat guy she was led up a green painted plywood ramp with a flimsy hand rail and cotton snow all over the place until she stood in front of... 'Santa'. "Ho-ho-ho... Hello little girl, come up and sit on Santa's lap and tell me what you want for Christmas!" said the too jolly elf with the fake beard and the white wig and the threadbare red suit with the itchy fur. | |||||||||||||||||||
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As she allowed herself to be picked up from under her arms by his big hands around her waist and deposited onto his lap, she waited for him to ask her again what she wanted. And as she waited, she thought about what her answer might be. She really didn't want anything. She didn't want a doll or a bike or a playhouse. She didn't want clothes or toys or money or any material thing at all. All she really wanted was her daddy. He had been so nice and she had loved him so much. She missed the way he would pick her up and swing her around, the way he would carry her on his shoulders, the way he would whisper in her ear about little surprises that he had in store. She missed the way he smelled when he leaned over to kiss her good night and she missed the feel of his stubbly beard when she would crawl into bed between him and mama on Sunday mornings. Most of all, she missed the way she always felt "safe" when he was with her. And then, when the question came, when she was asked what she wanted for Christmas, she just said... "I want my daddy." "Your daddy?" asked the surprised 'Santa'. "Where is he? Did he leave you here alone?" "No, he isn't here. He's dead," she said with a tear starting to form in the corner of her eye. She didn't want to cry, especially in front of all these people, but the tears were starting to come and she couldn't hold them back. And then, as she sat on the tired old mans lap, a strange thing began to happen. The sights and sounds of the other children, and the busy hustle and bustle of the store itself, started to fade away until all that was left were herself and 'Santa'. It was then that she looked at the white haired, bearded old man closely for the first time and she could see that instead of the fake beard that she had seen earlier, the long hairs she saw now really grew from his face and his long white hair was real and it was as soft as snow. In his clear blue eyes that sparkled like sunlight on water, she could see the soul of a very sensitive and caring person. There was a depth to them that she had not expected to find and as she sat cuddled in his strong arms, feeling the velvet softness of the red suit that was trimmed in white fur, she felt safe and secure for the first time since her daddy had "Gone away". | |||||||||||||||||||
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Then, without a word being spoken between herself and the old man, as she looked up into his eyes, she began to see and feel the strength of her father. It was he who was holding her. It was he who talked softly into her ear about why he had been called away, to be at God's side, so early. It was he that she saw and touched and smelled. It was really her daddy. For this brief period of time, however short, however long, she had her daddy back. She could tell him that she loved him and that she missed him and he could tell her that he loved and missed her also. He told her about how wonderful it is where he lives and how good it feels to be in heaven and that someday, when it's her turn to come, they will be together forever and always. And it was at that moment that she knew, and that she would forever-after know in her heart, that there really is a Santa Claus. That he is real, that he lives, that he breathes and that he truly does deliver dreams to little children. The end | |||||||||||||||||||
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