Christmas Secrets

When I was a kid, I was a firm believer in Santa Claus. The old gent was always very good to me and my sisters so I had no reason to be dubious. That's why, when a classmate tried to tell me he wasn't real, we almost came to blows.

But the seed of doubt had been planted, so I decided to find out for myself.

We always spent Christmas Eve at my grandmother's home. She had a wonderful old house with an oak banister she wrapped with pine boughs and a tree big enough to fill half of the living room. A wreath with a candle in the center lit every window. The only flaw in the place was that there was no fireplace, but my grandmother solved that problem by putting up a cardboard one for us to hang our stocking on.

How Santa Claus managed to enter the house through that cardboard fireplace was one of the great mysteries of my childhood. I'd always taken it on faith . . . until that Christmas.

That night, I waited, lying beside my sleeping sister, until the adults went to bed and the house grew quiet. Then, I heard a rustling in the living room below. I slipped out from under the covers and padded to the head of the stairs. Peering through the greenery, I discovered my grandmother below.

She was filling each of the stockings--a fragrant orange in the toe, nuts and hard candy on top of that, and a small toy in each. Before she could catch me out of bed, I tiptoed back.

Well, as it turned out, my classmate was right. There was no Santa Claus. But I learned I had something even better--I had a grandma who loved me.

When did you learn the truth about SC? Do you still believe? ;-)