The Day I Met Santa

Santa Claus, that jolly old elf of goodwill, will always make his appearance known to kids and adults alike... just when you need him the most. It was the early 60's, and me, my sister, and brother, were all excited about Christmas. I think my parents had the usual holiday stress about money, as they seemed to be arguing quite a bit, which inadvertently affected the sensitive nature of us children. It was Christmas eve, and although we were put to bed at the usual 7:30 PM, it was well after 9:00PM that we remained awake in our bedrooms, whispering, giggling and wondering what we would be getting for Christmas. My dad hollered up, "Be quiet and go to sleep!," several times, but within a short span of time we were back to our shenanigans. Suddenly, he came bounding up the stairs with a newspaper in his hand and asked my brother to come to our room for some news. Opening it to the mid section he read, "There will be no Christmas this year because Santa got into an accident with a helicopter, and now he is in the hospital. So you might as well go to sleep and forget about getting presents." Now as the oldest, I didn't really believe in Santa because one of the big kids on the block ruined it for me the prior year (I was 5 then). She told me to stay up late and peek downstairs and I would see my parents putting out the gifts under the tree (which I did). But since I wanted to keep the excitement up for my sister and brother, it seemed only natural to cry at the upsetting news, as they were sobbing. We cried ourselves to sleep that night, but not before I heard  my mom hissing and quietly yelling at my dad him for his cruelty. Very early the next morning, as the sun was still below the horizon, I awoke to the sound of jingle bells. As I looked out my window, I saw a shadow of Santa and the reindeer flying over our neighbor's rooftop. I could not believe my eyes, but I was sure of what I saw! Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I crawled back into bed and waited for my sister to wake. When she did, we went and woke my little brother and I got to deliver the news that Santa had come. They looked worried, but  I led them downstairs into the living room, and sure enough, the tree was decorated and there were presents underneath. My Dad and Mom woke in better spirits, and all was forgotten about the "helicopter accident." Later that day, it turned out to be warm and sunny, and as I skipped around the block with my new little pocketbook, I almost skipped right into a man who looked exactly like Santa, but in street clothes. "Merry Christmas little one, he said in a chuckled voice, "what do you have there with you?" Being shy, I stammered, "It's a p-p-ocketbook that I got for Christmas." "Well, well", he replied  with a warm smile, " I heard that you were extra good this year, and so I have something special for you." With that, he pulled out a shiny new quarter and gave it to me to put in my pocketbook. "  I thanked him, wished him a Merry Christmas, happily skipped home... and then kept the good news to myself. I didn't want to take any chance that my believing in Santa would be spoiled again. And to this day I remain a firm and faithful believer!