Another really nice Christmas story

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Carolyn R

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Came across this and wanted to share, couldn't say it better myself. Even my 22 year old niece believes in the magic of Christmas, the magic of Santa, and the magic of the giving with no expectation of a gift in return in honor of the true essence behind 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 Kerby's 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 Kerby'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

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, 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 for 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, and

he didn't have a 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," I

replied shyly. "It's .... for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't

get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.




 

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and

ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible)

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 doorbell 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 tag tucked inside: $19.95.




===============================




 

He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under

a tree.




--




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
I read it to my 15 year old, she was very touched and she cried. She has been my helper with some events and like the story says, it must be anonymous.
 

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