Christmas Present ... And Christmas Past

It's Christmas and my 12-year-old son, as is wont for his age, is questioning his belief that there really IS a Santa Clause. It reminded me of my own lack of faith when I was his age. At the time, I decided if Santa really knew me and "knew if I was bad or good", he would also know what I wanted underneath the tree without asking him.

So, with the diligence of youth, I set my heart on a sled. But not just any sled would do. I wanted a Flexible Flyer sled. It was the hot item at the time of my adolescence. However, I firmly decided not to tell anyone about my longing. I didn't tell my parents, family members or friends; and I definitely did NOT tell Santa with an obligatory letter.

Christmas day dawned and my heart was racing. I looked under the tree. It was loaded with presents, a large number of them in fact. But to my confirmed conviction, I did not see the sled of my dreams. With a crest fallen heart, since my friends' opinion of Santa was now proven to me in my mind if not my heart, I started to open the "other" wonderful items that were marked for me.

It seemed to take longer on this Christmas to open my gifts. It was probably due to my saddened soul and loss of faith. I tried to hide my feelings well from my family. I was determined not let them see my disappointment. As the gifts were revealed and other family members opened theirs, tears welled up in my eyes. I could not hide my feelings forever. My sight blurred and my family, mistakenly, thought I was moved by their generosity which I must admit, in hindsight, was tremendous.

I guess the tears caused me not to see what was hidden by other packages. There, under the tree, was a red and light brown item. I rubbed my eyes vigorously to clear them and looked again. It was the sled!! It was impossible to believe but the sled was there and it was the exact sled I wanted. There was no way that could happen unless there was a Santa Claus.

And so, my belief was revived for another year, at which time I saw my parents putting the presents under the tree and adult reality came crashing in.

Flashing forward to this year, I watched my son on Christmas day. The economy had been horrible and there was no money for gifts. My neighbors had been watching my son grow for almost a decade and they all chipped in to purchase a laptop for him, rightfully figuring he would need the computer as a learning tool to help him get ready for his upcoming life. What no one knew was that he wanted a laptop for Christmas. He had already decided that he would not write to Santa or tell anyone. It was his test of faith since all the children at school were saying that parents are really Santa. My son took it to a further level. He wanted a RED laptop.

When we were shopping for the computer, my friend mentioned that the red laptops were "kind of cute" and my son would like it being different than just black. So we purchased the machine and wrapped it from Santa, this being the only large gift he would receive.

My son opened his presents with the laptop being last. I saw it on his face; the look that I had shown all those years ago. It was the look of wonder and amazement. It was the look of faith renewed and youth extended. For this year at least, there is a Santa Claus.