Grandma Tells Truth about Santa!

My Dear Friend Fred … just tapped magic back into Christmas with this delightful story … Enjoy!

 

 

 MERRY CHRISTMAS

 BLESSED TO BE A BLESSING

   Capture         Grandma & 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 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, 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!

 

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