catching claus

 Kevin and I went over to Grandmother's house on Christmas Eve. We did every year. We opened all the presents from the people who didn't live inside our house on Christmas Eve. That left the presents from mom and dad and each other for Christmas Morning. And of course, Santa's presents too.

We ate dinner with Grandmother and Grandfather. Then we watched Grandfather build the fire in the fireplace. It had such a cool, smooth white marble hearth. I liked to sit on the chill of it just to get goosebumps and have a reason to sit on it and get warm! When the fire was going "Snap! Pop-pop-snap!" that's when we knew Grandfather would settle in his high green rocking chair, put up his feet and say, "Well now, what do we have under this tree here?"

That was our cue to run to the tree and play Santa; passing out one gift at a time so no matter who was opening the present, they had the spotlight. That night I guess we stayed a little too long. We stepped out into the frosty chill, snow crunching underneath our warm boots. Daddy made a noise and said, "Oh my! We have to go!! Santa's on his way down this block already!" Mouths open, we turned and saw a single red light aglow on top of a house at the end of the street. Rudolph's nose!

How we rushed home and jumped into our pajamas! Daddy set out a bowl of oatmeal for the reindeer and Mommy set out cookies and the snowman mug of milk for Santa. Kevin and I lay there, we two; giggling and listening for bells. I heard Kevin get really quiet and I knew that he had fallen asleep. Then I heard it. The Sound. It was the sound of someone dunking a homemade sugar cookie into a glass of milk.

I leaped from my bed and crept quietly to the door. I peeked out the crack and saw---


Nothing.

I opened the door as far as I dared, almost closing it behind me and crawled down the hallway to the living room. I held my breath as I peered into the living room and I saw---


Nothing.


I turned my head around to see into the kitchen and that's when I knew I was done for. Two big black boots, sitting in front of Daddy's chair. But the feet were missing. I looked up a little further. The feet were propped up on Kevin's chair and sitting in Daddy's chair was the Man himself. Santa Claus was dunking my cookies into my snowman mug. And the bowl of oatmeal was nowhere to be seen.

"Good Morning, Katie. Have a cookie," he said. Just like that. As if we ate Christmas cookies at 3 am every day.

"How-how did you know my name?" I asked; then I felt really silly for asking. Of course he knew my name. He's SANTA.

We sat there, munching and dunking in silence. Really, I couldn't have spoken if I wanted to, I was that surprised. He finished off the last of the milk and sat back, wiggling his toes in his purple socks. Purple socks?

"Well, there's only one thing left to do here now, and that is entirely up to you. You can choose to forget this ever happened or you can choose to remember it for the rest of your life. Makes no nevermind to me. I'll tuck you in your bed and you'll wake up in the morning just as if you'd fallen asleep when Kevin did. Or not."

"NOT!" I yelled, jumping off my chair.

He held one finger to his lips in a silent shhhh! "Well, there's a catch to that one," said he. "If you choose to remember, you must agree to help me when you're big enough for me to count on. When you're a grownup."

"What do you need help with, Santa?" I asked in a small scared voice. The man who flew completely around the world, stopping at every child's house to deliver a gift of some sort; the man who could make reindeer fly; the man who had a whole army of elves at his elbow; was asking ME for help? How could I possibly help him?

"Well, as you know, I have a workshop full of elves that help make the toys and get them ready for delivery. They also help take care of the reindeer, teaching the new ones how to fly, feeding; things like that. During December, it's just too much for them anymore. So I am asking for grownups to help me wrap presents. The elves will drop the presents off during the reindeer exercise time and you could wrap them up and leave them where you found them. They'll be gone in the morning. Just a couple of nights a year is all I'm asking. Or I could just carry you off to bed now..."

"I'll do it," I answered, feeling very much like a grownup already. "Please don't make me forget that you were here."

"You always were a good girl at heart," he ho-hoed at me. "Let's snuggle you down into your bed now." He held my hand in his and we both tiptoed back to my room where he turned down my blankets. To my surprise, they were just as warm as they were when I crawled out of them. I climbed up and grabbed him around the neck to give him a big hug.

To this day, I still remember how his cheeks looked like he'd been standing in a windstorm, but they were as warm and soft as sugar cookies straight off the pan. He smelled a little bit like cinnamon and firewood. His eyes were the softest of blue; like my old favorite Noah's Ark blankie. And his beard was more grey than white. But at least I can remember him.

Now I still get a few little bags of presents every December. I wrap them up in pretty paper, tie on a tag and ribbon or bow and put them back where I found them before I go to bed. They are always gone in the morning.