Scott
That's the "whole of it"...Brilliant...Thank you
O'Dalaigh
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From: "Scott Humphrey" <sactoscott(a)juno.com>
---------- Forwarded Message ----------
I know youve seen this one before but its just right for a Christmas day
email.> />
Christmas Adventure with Grandma
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 Kirbys 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
Kirbys. 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, and 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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