This is usually a gardening blog, but since it’s almost Christmas, I want to tell you my favorite Christmas story. It’s a story about childhood wonder and parental trickery. It’s a story about Jesse, and how I didn’t want him to stop believing in Santa. Jesse is my youngest child; I wasn’t ready for him to give up on the magic of Christmas. The first year he started questioning Santa’s validity, I decided that he needed some concrete evidence, so while he was sleeping on Christmas Eve, I dipped Dale’s big work boots in fireplace ashes and made a trail to the tree. That shut him up for a few years.
But the main reason that Jesse believed in Santa for longer than any of his friends was the bouncy balls. Jesse was about 7 years old, and the thing he wanted most in the world was those rubber, bouncy balls used to play four-square. I ordered them, but they were back-ordered and didn’t arrive in time. After opening all his presents that Christmas morning, I could sense Jesse’s disappointment. I asked, “So Jesse, did Santa bring you what you wanted?” He replied, “Well, most of it, but not the bouncy balls.” Feigning shock and disbelief, I said, “Are you sure? Santa knew how much you wanted those. Look again they must be here somewhere.” When he still didn’t find them, I assured him that somehow they would turn up. Santa wouldn’t let him down.
A week later our neighbor, Terry, knocked on the door and asked for Jesse. Knowing what was about to happen, I stood where I could see Jesse’s face. Terry said, “I was walking the dog, and I found this present on the side of the road. The tag says, ‘To: Jesse. From: Santa.’ It must have fallen off Santa’s sleigh.” Jesse tore into the gift, and sure enough, there were the bouncy balls. For years after, he would say things like, “Josh says that Santa is you and dad, but I told him that you wouldn’t let daddy make a mess on the carpet, and you wouldn’t throw my present on the side of the road. There MUST be a Santa Claus!” The memory still makes me smile.
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Jesse is in his twenties now, and he’s a wonderful young man, but sometimes I miss that little boy who believed.
So Merry Christmas to you! Happy Holidays! And/or Joyous Whatever You Celebrate! I hope you make some fabulous memories.