[Histonet] Off Topic: NO SANTA CLAUS

[Thomas Jasper]

Thanks Claire, totally awesome.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from
one of Santa helpers to another.
Tom Jasper
Bend, OR (by way of northern WI)

-----Original Message-----
From: histonet-bounces <@t> lists.utsouthwestern.edu
[mailto:histonet-bounces <@t> lists.utsouthwestern.edu] On Behalf Of Ingles
Claire
Sent: Thursday, December 20, 2007 10:59 AM
To: histonet <@t> lists.utsouthwestern.edu
Subject: [Histonet] Off Topic: NO SANTA CLAUS 

 
Sorry if you are not Christian. You can delete, but I think Santa just
has lots of different names around the world. Everyone - remember what
you have that never cost anything. Merry Christmas greetings and warm
wishes to all.
 
Claire Ingles
lifelong Santa's helper

 

					  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 worl d-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 for 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, and he didn't have a 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," I replied shyly. "It's
... for Bobby." 
					
					The nice lady smiled at me. I
didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a
Merry Christmas. 
					
					That evening, Grandma helped me
wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of
the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From
Santa Claus", on a tag-- 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 Gr andma gave me a nudge. "All right,
Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." 
					I took a deep breath, dashed for
his front door, and threw the present down on his step. I 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
tag tucked inside: $19.95. 
					
	
-------------------------------------------------------------------- 
					He who has no Christmas in his
heart will never find Christmas under a tree. 
					
					Have a wonderful holiday season.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!! 
					
					
					
					
					
					


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