Special thanks to Sun followers Lou and Donna Baldeman for sharing this heartwarming tale they sent to me as a Christmas card. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it just as much as I did.
I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit Grandma on the day my brother dropped the shattering bomb: “There is no Santa Claus” he 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. In 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 had a chance to finish my second world- famous warm cinnamon bun.
‘Where’ turned out to be Newberry’s General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything.
As we walked through the store’s big old wooden doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. “Here, 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 Newberry’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 so very crowded, full of people scrambling to finish up with 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 second grade 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 just 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 nice red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked really 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, “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, as Grandma helped me wrap the coat a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible.
We wrapped it in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote on it, “To Bobby, From Santa Claus”
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, so 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 darknes 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 had 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. (Writer Unknown)
May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care… And may you always believe in the magic of Christmas!