A sweet Christmas Story
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lemon_and_mint
- Posts: 928
- Joined: Tue Nov 20, 2007 2:04 pm
A sweet Christmas Story
It was shortly after that that Kerby's went out of business, they never made any profit for some reason.
A sweet Christmas Story
That was a lovely little story....thanks for sharing Angel 
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Indian Princess
- Posts: 1953
- Joined: Fri Nov 03, 2006 4:55 pm
A sweet Christmas Story
AngelEyes82;742281 wrote: 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 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 its 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 only eight 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
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-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.
I knew that because he never went out for recess during the
winter.
His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a
cough, but all we kids knew that BobbyDecker, didn't have a cough,
and he didn't have a coat. 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," I replied shyly. "It's .... for Bobby." The nice
lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in
a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper
and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it
in her Bible)and 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. 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.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent
shivering, beside my Grandma, in BobbyDecker'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.
I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.
He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas
under
a tree.
Thank you for sharing that, it was beautiful, just beautiful!! Brought tears too my eyes,in this cold world, thats a slap to reality of another time, what a wonderful grandmother you had!!!!!
She would be happy to know she made such an impression. Each year I make my son choose one gift to donate, it is usually a coat and boots, but two years ago he picked out toys for an older child, he said"Mama, I think maybe people forget the older ones" He knows I was placed in an orphanage, I am one of the lucky ones to be adopted out, but we all know, that not all those beautiful children do.
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 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 its 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 only eight 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
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-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.
I knew that because he never went out for recess during the
winter.
His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a
cough, but all we kids knew that BobbyDecker, didn't have a cough,
and he didn't have a coat. 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," I replied shyly. "It's .... for Bobby." The nice
lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in
a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper
and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it
in her Bible)and 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. 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.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent
shivering, beside my Grandma, in BobbyDecker'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.
I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.
He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas
under
a tree.
Thank you for sharing that, it was beautiful, just beautiful!! Brought tears too my eyes,in this cold world, thats a slap to reality of another time, what a wonderful grandmother you had!!!!!
She would be happy to know she made such an impression. Each year I make my son choose one gift to donate, it is usually a coat and boots, but two years ago he picked out toys for an older child, he said"Mama, I think maybe people forget the older ones" He knows I was placed in an orphanage, I am one of the lucky ones to be adopted out, but we all know, that not all those beautiful children do.