“Nah na na na na! There is no Santa Claus. Even dummies know that!”
His big sister had just dropped the bomb. Her words kept reverberating in his ears. 8 year old Bobby was highly upset. Tears streaming down his face, little Bobby ran down the street all the way to his grandma’s place. Now, Bobby knew that grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. He fled to her that day because he knew she would be straight with him. He knew Grandma always told the truth, and he also knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. Yummm!
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, he told her everything. She was ready for him. "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.” Like most grandmas, Bobby’s grandma too had a trick up her sleeve. “Put on your coat, and let's go", she told Bobby.
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" Bobby asked. He hadn't even finished his second 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 they walked through its doors, Grandma handed Bobby ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. “Take this money 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.
Now, Bobby was just eight years old. He had often gone shopping with his mother before, but never had he shopped for anything all by himself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. He stared at the baubles and tinsel, the mistletoe and holly, the gigantic Christmas tree and the many other decorations in the store. For a few moments he just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.
He thought of everybody he knew: his family, his friends, his neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to his church. He was just about thought out, when he suddenly thought of Eric Decker. Eric Decker was that kid. That kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind Bobby in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.
Eric Decker didn't have a coat. Bobby knew that because Eric never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all the kids knew that Eric Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat.
Bobby fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. “I will buy Eric Decker a coat.” He settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and Bobby thought Eric would like that.
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as Bobby laid his ten dollars down.
"Yes," he replied shyly. "It's ... for Eric." The nice lady smiled at him, put the coat in a bag and wished him a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped Bobby wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and write, "To Eric, From Santa Claus" on it – Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove Bobby over to Eric Decker's house. She parked down the street from Eric’s house, and crept noiselessly along with Bobby and hid in the bushes by Eric’s front walk. Then Grandma gave Bobby a nudge. "All right“, she whispered, "get going."
Bobby took a deep breath, dashed for Eric’s front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together they waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Eric. As he slowly opened the parcel, tears of joy filled his eyes and slowly began to stream down his face.
As Bobby and his grandma slowly drove back home that night, she told him the truth – “Santa Claus does exist, and YOU are a part of his team."
So now YOU decide which team are you on, the one that spreads wrong rumors, or spreads joy on behalf of Santa.
