With Christmas around the corner , let us hear a story about Santa and who really is ...
Fireplaces were all lighted up;
overcoats and long boots were out of the closets; the surroundings were all
covered with a white cover of snow - Christmas had arrived. The festive spirit
could be seen all around, in the
decorated trees, lighted up lanes and homes, and on all the joyful faces. The kids
were busy writing their letters to Santa describing how they have been 'good'
throughout the year.
It was the Christmas eve, and Peter and
Jill were probably not the happiest of the kids that evening. Peter had been
crying ever since he heard a guy say -There is no Santa, he is not Real. He was
just 5, and not really at a phase where he could apply or defy logic on his
own, he just took to what was told. Jill, was 2 years older, and had begun to
question things. However, he was yet to arrive at a conclusion on this one. He
too had heard a lot on this one, and for some time now had been thinking about
it. He had not got any opportunity to test his belief (or disbelief). Until
now, that is. Unfortunately, their parents had to leave on an emergency ( Aunt
Muriel was very unwell), and would not be back before the next i.e. Christmas
noon. They were just the two of them with Kerry, their domestic help.
Unsure of what to do, and partially to
test his own belief, Jill asked Peter to make a wish and put up the Christmas
socks for Santa to fill them up with his gifts. He too did the same, and went
to sleep, thinking of the play station that he had been thinking of for so many
days now, and knowing what Peter must have wished for - the new packet of
colourful candies they saw in market the other day.
Out of sheer anxiety, or the secret
desire to get his belief affirmed, Jill
woke up a little early, and went to check the socks. They were still empty. So,
what he had doubted was true after all. He was not shocked, though a little
disappointed. But then he thought of Peter, and got a little worried. He had
not yet reached that age- of facing the not so pleasant realities, and probably
had some time more to live in his own world of imaginations, happy
imaginations. He certainly would be very disheartened to find this, and would
feel Santa was angry with him, for not being the good boy he wanted him to be.
Mom was not there to take care of him either, so he only had to do something
for his little brother, thought Jill. A pack of candies was all he needed to
make his brother happy. Against any hope, he looked outside on the streets to
find any shops open for the occasion. But it was nearing midnight and there
were none. He went to Kerry, woke him up after a lot of efforts, and asked if
he could somehow arrange for a pack of candies. It was impossible this late at
night, he said and went back to sleep.
But he must not let his little brother
cry, thought Jill. There might be some old candies left in the store, he
thought. He went there, put on the lights, climbed up on the stool and reached
to the rack where Mom used to hide the candies from them. (He had known this for
some time now) Searching around, he found a bag.
Lo! It contained a packet of the
colourful candies, and also the latest Play Station! For a moment, he was all
wide eyed, and pictured a jolly Santa Claus in his red and white coat coming
all the way to store and hiding the gifts here. But Santa leaves the gifts in socks,
not here, as he had known! As he thought, his eyes went to the slip lying
besides the packet, the bill - of the nearby store, dated yesterday, and drawn
in the name of Andrew Simpson, his father.
And he understood, and smiled. It was a
smile of realization, of happiness, of satisfaction and of love. He took the
gifts, and put them up suitably in the socks and went to his bed where lay
Peter, asleep, probably dreaming about his Santa. An hour later, he happily
held his pack of candies and joyfully exclaimed – Yes! Santa came, he is real,
I knew it!
Yes, Santa is real, thought Jill. Mom
and Dad were Santa. He was his brother's Secret Santa. Love is Santa, Santa is
love. He smiled to himself. From the window, he could see Mr. Johnson in the
adjacent home dressing up as Santa, and Christmas joy was all around him.
Yes, Santa is Real. Joy is Real.
