Caution-Note to Reader: Text and Material May Not Be Suitable For Lil' Youngsters.
During this last week, I have been asked on several different occasions about when and how I "found out" about the jolly old man in the red suit. I recalled this memory:As pathetic as this may sound...I think I was 11 or 12...maybe even 13 years of age when I discovered that Santa, was not Santa. I remember shopping with my parents and eagerly pointing out this cute, hairy, puppet that would walk around, bob his head ect...I wanted it desperately. Several weeks later, I was looking under my mom's sewing machine box to finish a pillow I had made (that's about the only thing I can sew...) and I saw the PUPPET! The one I wanted! The one I had asked for! I was so excited! I acted like I hadn't seen a thing...went on my merry way and waited for Christmas morning to arrive. It came- and as all of us girls rushed out to the living room to see what Santa had brought us, there it was. The Puppet. Sitting next to my stocking. Next to the candies and socks, that Santa brought. THAT SANTA BROUGHT! Wait a second...but I thought Mom had it under the sewing... but Santa brought...
So, there I was...a young, naive 12 year old- who really believed in Santa...I want to say that my heart broke a little at that very moment...
What have I learned since that that day? Many years later?
Believe. Believe and have faith in that which you can not see. Or who you can not see. He is there. Always there. Always listening and watching, seeing if we are naughty or nice.
He will be there Christmas morning, and every day after that...
1 comments:
What a sweet story Kelli. I too believed until I was ten and my mom whispered in my ear that if I didn't like the gift from "Santa" we could return it. I had also seen my little sister's Santa gift in the back of the suburban, but was in denial. I was a little heartbroken too.
Post a Comment