One such story takes place when our youngest son still believed in Santa. His older brother had figured things out but was content to let his little brother continue in his belief. That, in itself, was a Christmas Miracle. Big Brother loved to torture the living daylights out of his little brother to no end. Maybe he still believed, a little. Enough to let Little Brother have something of his own, something shiny and good. Maybe someone really was watching, this time of year above all others.
We were coming home from Grandma and Grandpa's house on Christmas Eve, and we were telling the kids that maybe - just maybe - Santa had come while we were gone. We bought them bicycles that year. A green one for Big Brother. A blue one for Little Brother. We figured we wouldn't be able to wrap them so we put them in their bedrooms for them to find when we got home. So we were trying to encourage the idea that it would have been a perfect time for Santa to come. While we were gone.
Oh, no, Little Brother explained, Thanta can't come until it noeth. (He had trouble with the letter s but for some reason, snow became no rather than thnoe.) Well, this was a predicament. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.
We were coming home from Grandma and Grandpa's house on Christmas Eve, and we were telling the kids that maybe - just maybe - Santa had come while we were gone. We bought them bicycles that year. A green one for Big Brother. A blue one for Little Brother. We figured we wouldn't be able to wrap them so we put them in their bedrooms for them to find when we got home. So we were trying to encourage the idea that it would have been a perfect time for Santa to come. While we were gone.
Oh, no, Little Brother explained, Thanta can't come until it noeth. (He had trouble with the letter s but for some reason, snow became no rather than thnoe.) Well, this was a predicament. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.
Are you sure he can't come?
No. It'th not noing.
A fairly serious discussion ensued on the topic but we could not convince him. We searched the sky for snow, hoping for even a snowflake so the magic could happen. We pulled into our garage and went into the house. Put away your coats, boys, I said. They ran into their rooms and tossed their coats on their beds. One saw a bike. One was still concerned about the no.
A fairly serious discussion ensued on the topic but we could not convince him. We searched the sky for snow, hoping for even a snowflake so the magic could happen. We pulled into our garage and went into the house. Put away your coats, boys, I said. They ran into their rooms and tossed their coats on their beds. One saw a bike. One was still concerned about the no.
Still, Big Brother didn't break the spell. Little Brother ran to the big picture window in the living room to resume his search for no. It hath to no, or Thanta won't come!
And just at that moment there was a light in the sky. It was an airplane or a satellite but that didn't matter. To Little Brother, it was Santa. He pointed. He shouted. He was sure. It was him! I can thee him!
Let's go outside and get a better look, I said. He ran into his room, past his blue bike with a red bow, grabbed his jacket, and out the front door we went.
Do you think it's really him?
Oh, yeth, it'th him.
We watched the light until we couldn't see it anymore. It's was a magical moment to actually see - or make believe you see - Santa in action. Not just the man but the entire entourage. An amazing, imaginary sight.
Little Brother was elated. Santa was probably the biggest concept he could get his head around. An epic moment for a six-year old.
We came back into the house, silent in our reverence and joy. Put your coats away, boys, I said for the second time that night. To their bedrooms they went.
And then it happened. Little Brother came running out of his bedroom. He wath here! He came! He had finally seen his bike.
He ran back to the picture window and searched the sky for another glimpse at the Fat Man. I believe! he cried. I believe!
And ever since that night, I do too.
What a neat story! We have a 2-year-old daughter and another on the way in the spring--I'm trusting that Santa will bring us years of experiences like the story you related. Happy Holidailies!
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