Santa Is Alive And Well... 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 I was only nine 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 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, ma’am, I replied shyly. “It’s
for Bobby.” The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how
Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn’t get any change,
but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas. That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in
Christmas paper. A little tag fell 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.
Grandma has long since passed on, but I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside....It says, $19.95.
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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
it’s 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 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-4 class. Bobby Decker didn’t
have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to 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; he just had no coat. 
out
of the coat, but Grandma said it was okay and just tucked it in her
Bible. We finished wrapping the coat and tied the package with pretty
ribbon, then 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.
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.
