The magic of Christmas
"There he is", my daughter said, as she hurried through the door tugging my hand, "I just bet he is the real Santa", she added.
Santa had just got there as well. As he sat down I could see snow sticking to his outfit, and drips of melted snow ran down his glasses. It looked like he just gotten off his sleigh.
My daughter approached him, smiling from ear to ear and hopped on his knee.
"Well, well my dear, what would you like for Christmas"?
I just rolled my eyes, and gave a little chuckle, as she read off her list, and read off her list!
She just then jumped off Santa's knee, thanked him, and walked over to look at the ornaments hanging from the store tree.
I was about to follow her, when Santa grabbed my arm. "How about you", he said, "What would you like?"
I was going to say maybe a Plasma TV, but my thoughts turned a little more serious.
"You know Santa", I began, "I wish I could see my parents just one more time by the tree. To tell them the things I never told them when they were alive. They would scold me for things I did or did not do, but I hope for the most part they would be proud of me."
Santa smiled at me, his rosy cheeks never looked rosier, his eyes never sparked so brightly and told me, "They are there, they are there all along. You just have to open your eyes a little wider, open your ears so you can hear a little better, open your heart and the Christmas spirit will fill you and then you will know. Go home now and sit at the tree and see."
The ride home was quiet and thoughtful. Maybe my daughter was right; maybe he was the real Santa! I looked at my daughter and told her I loved her.
That night I sat at the tree and gazed at the manger and did what Santa had said.
Their image then came to me smiling and my heart overflowed, tears ran down because they knew all along what I needed to tell them.
Behind their image I could see a bright pulsing light and I knew He knew too.
Short story by John Lockawich
Read 677 times
Written on 2006-12-27 at 21:00
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Just One More Time
The snow had just started falling, as I took my daughter to see the department store Santa. It had just started, but the cars were already covered with a fine white dust. I could see the excitement in her eyes as we got closer and closer to the store door."There he is", my daughter said, as she hurried through the door tugging my hand, "I just bet he is the real Santa", she added.
Santa had just got there as well. As he sat down I could see snow sticking to his outfit, and drips of melted snow ran down his glasses. It looked like he just gotten off his sleigh.
My daughter approached him, smiling from ear to ear and hopped on his knee.
"Well, well my dear, what would you like for Christmas"?
I just rolled my eyes, and gave a little chuckle, as she read off her list, and read off her list!
She just then jumped off Santa's knee, thanked him, and walked over to look at the ornaments hanging from the store tree.
I was about to follow her, when Santa grabbed my arm. "How about you", he said, "What would you like?"
I was going to say maybe a Plasma TV, but my thoughts turned a little more serious.
"You know Santa", I began, "I wish I could see my parents just one more time by the tree. To tell them the things I never told them when they were alive. They would scold me for things I did or did not do, but I hope for the most part they would be proud of me."
Santa smiled at me, his rosy cheeks never looked rosier, his eyes never sparked so brightly and told me, "They are there, they are there all along. You just have to open your eyes a little wider, open your ears so you can hear a little better, open your heart and the Christmas spirit will fill you and then you will know. Go home now and sit at the tree and see."
The ride home was quiet and thoughtful. Maybe my daughter was right; maybe he was the real Santa! I looked at my daughter and told her I loved her.
That night I sat at the tree and gazed at the manger and did what Santa had said.
Their image then came to me smiling and my heart overflowed, tears ran down because they knew all along what I needed to tell them.
Behind their image I could see a bright pulsing light and I knew He knew too.
Short story by John Lockawich
Read 677 times
Written on 2006-12-27 at 21:00
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
