Do you remember when you believed in Santa?

My bedroom was at the end of the hall directly down from the living room. I remember waking up Christmas Eve after everyone had gone to sleep to hear some rustling noises in the living room – it was quite the ‘a clatter’. There was a faint glow coming under my door too.

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I held my breath and could hear clunky sounds from up on the roof that must have been the reindeer hooves.

I was so scared Santa would find out I was awake and then I wouldn’t be able to have any presents. I was also worried he wouldn’t see the cookies and milk. I hid my head under the blankets and almost passed out from lack of air. I was so excited!

I heard the door open. Then the sound of a coat falling to the floor. Then rustle, rustle, crinkle, snap. Tree sounds of paper scratching along the branches. And maybe the tinkling of a bell.

Eventually I went back to sleep – passed out most likely.

The next morning the living room was full of brightly wrapped packages stacked in four ‘even’ piles around the tree. (One for each of my two brothers and I.) Some were in the tree too.

The cookie plate was empty. The carrots were gone. Then what to our wandering eyes should appear… but an empty milk glass with white beard hairs stuck on a sticky mouth print. The message that came with it said Santa had enjoyed a candy cane at the last house and he must have still had sticky lips – ouch! Oh Santa we all thought – you are a silly goose.

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