Albert Oliver
Through out our early years, my sister and I developed a routine – she’d wake up first (maybe around 2 or 3 AM), get me up, and we’d go downstairs to examine and play with the booty brought by Santa. We’d then go back to bed, and wake up (again) at a more suitable time, to “officially” greet the tree and Mom and Dad.
Through out our early years, my sister and I developed a routine – she’d wake up first (maybe around 2 or 3 AM), get me up, and we’d go downstairs to examine and play with the booty brought by Santa. We’d then go back to bed, and wake up (again) at a more suitable time, to “officially” greet the tree and Mom and Dad.
But, there finally came a time when both my sister and I were starting to doubt Santa’s existence. For even though our row house had a chimney, it only went down to the furnace – hardly a suitable way for Santa to get in to the house. We were also starting to be quite skeptical about the idea of Santa’s “magic” too. Fortunately, we hadn’t yet discovered any of the hiding places for gifts in the house. So, one Christmas eve we decided to set “traps” for Santa Cookies, Milk and Potato Chips were determined to be the most suitable.
It wasn’t even snowing that Christmas, so we were even more skeptical that he would ever appear. We tried to stay up, but finally went to sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, we heard noise on
our roof, and bells tinkling. I’m not sure which one of us heard it first, but we both got up, and ran downstairs to the tree. There was everything! The cookies, milk, and potato chips were eaten! And our parents were in bed!We never did find out about the noises, although I suspect it was a neighbor playing Santa for the neighborhood. But at the time, Santa was as real as we still wanted him to be.
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