A little older, but still too young for school. But definitely old enough to know that Christmas is coming. Of course I’m excited. This is the first Christmas that I really know what fun is in store for me. The magic of the Christmas before has only grown more profound in memory. I’ve been prompted to think about what I might like Santa to bring.
“PRESENTS!” I proclaim. A not bad answer, really.
Older sister, quite obviously proud that she is in first grade, finds many ways to remind me that I’m much too young for the demands of scholarly endeavors. She seemed to be intent on hinting that she knew something I didn’t.
“You still believe in Santa Claus, don’t you?”
“What?” I say.
“Well, you’re not even in school yet. It’s not time for you to know grown up things.”
“Okay.”
I ask brother about the train,
“Will it be around the tree again this year, Marty?”
“Oh yeah, it will be for sure!”
I wanted to know where the train came from. Marty told me Dad had gotten it from a fellow he worked with at the railroad who needed some extra Christmas money.
“Lucky, huh? The man got the money he needed and we got a train!”
I feel like this is some really interesting information. I later ask my oldest sister if she knows that the train will be around the tree on Christmas morning. She says,
“Ahmmm. I’m sure it will be.”
Wishing to have something noteworthy to share, I say,
“Do you know where the train came from?”
Lynn looks at me and says, “Why yes, I do. Santa brought it last year for the family.”
This is some new information and I need some time to absorb it on my own. But one thing I know for sure, neither Marty nor Lynn would tell something that wasn’t so.
As the days get closer to Christmas it’s clear that something is afoot.
Whisperings and stilled conversations seem to meet me round every corner. And Laura, in addition to remarking at every opportunity about her new status as a first grader, is making cryptic remarks about Christmas and Santa Claus.
“You know, don’t you, that Santa will be the L&N Golf Club Christmas party right?”
“Okay”
“You know that the real Santa has lots of helpers that fill in for him, cause he can’t be everywhere, right?”
“Okay”
“Just so you know, you know?”
“Okay.”
As luck would have it, I walked in on Mom working on what looked to me like a Santa’s suit.
She seemed annoyed with me as she put it away and said,
“I thought you were taking a nap.”
“I was.”
“Well go take another one.”
“Okay.”
Another bit of information came my way as I overheard Laura saying to Anne Marie,
“What if he recognizes Dad in the Santa suit?”
I was beginning to ponder all the evidence. The answer came to me as I lay in bed listening to the train rumble by outside our house. I’d heard some people didn’t believe in Santa Claus. One hears everything if you’re around long enough, and I was going on five, so I’d hear a thing or two. But I did a quick accounting of the facts.
Marty said Dad brought the train home. Lynn said Santa had given us the train. Dad was away a lot and sometimes he’d bring home the greatest things. Why just the other day he brought home a big old ham, bigger than you can imagine. And Mom said,
“Why, Kenneth, it’s the most beautiful Christmas ham ever! It’s even better than last year!”
And Dad had the best smile, and he could sing the best songs. Well, I bet you’ve guessed. My Dad was Santa Claus. I knew what Laura was worried about. It was a pretty big secret. Nobody was supposed to know who the real Santa is. But I’d never tell. I knew I just had to be right.
On Christmas Eve we all piled into the car to drive to the club Christmas party. For special, I was allowed to ride behind the backseat on the rear window panel. I was real excited. mom sang a carol and Dad whistled. They were good together.
When we got to the club, all the kids were kind of rounded up by bigger sisters and given funny games to play, like pin the nose on Rudolph and Santa sack races. The next thing you know, we’re all herded into the big dining room and boy is it fancy. Lights and green boughs of cedar and in the front is Santa! You can tell he’s the real Santa, his suit is rich and velvety. All us kids get to go up and see him one by one. He gives bags of candy and treats to each and every kid. No lumps of coal from Santa. I always knew that was something people made up to tease us or keep s in line.
After what seems like forever, it’s my turn to go up. I step up on a kind of stage and approach the chair. Santa picked me up and sat me on his knee. I looked into his twinkling blue eyes. I saw his happy smile. And I knew. I was right, Santa was my dad! My Dad was Santa!
I would never tell. Not anyone. I gave him a hug and laid my head on the velvety softness of his coat.
“I love you Santa,” I said.
“I love you too,” he answered.
