BS Friday - A Little Early

Welcome to BS Friday. I'm a little early but I really don't know my Friday morning schedule, so here it is. You know what to do. I’ll write it, you tell me if it’s truth or just plain old BS. This weeks post is called: Once, I Really Did Believe In Santa


We grew up poor. Really poor. My Mother married a guy who couldn’t stop the boozing and abusing. She ended up with 4 kids and no one to help her raise them. All before she was 25. Scary indeed.

We didn’t have much for Christmas. Sometimes we would get a couple of little things and it was just fine with us. I don’t think we knew any better for the longest time. Of course that changed once Middle School hit. That’s when you got to meet kids from other areas of the county. In Elementary School, your neighborhood friends were all you knew.

It was a weird transition, getting used to the fact that you were ‘from the wrong side of the tracks’. I was and I learned quickly what that meant. To some, it meant I wasn’t even allowed to be their friend. Funny thing was I always figured it was their loss. Yes, I’ve always had an attitude of some sort.

The weirdest thing I saw starting in Middle School though was that when a lot of those kids said they wanted something for Christmas, they ended up getting it. Now there was a foreign thought to me. I always wanted stuff but rarely did it show up. Especially after my Dad was gone.

I remember one year in particular our Mom sat us down and explained to us that Christmas was coming but the presents were not. She had been struggling hard and just wasn’t making it. She didn’t want us to be disappointed on Christmas morning so she was telling us the truth early. Naturally we were all bummed but the truth was, it wouldn’t be a whole lot different anyway.

So to cheer ourselves up we sat down and made decorations for the tree from whatever we could find available. We made this really cool chain out of some construction paper that I had lying around and strung it around the tree. We took what was left of some plastic village pieces and made a few buildings for under the tree and managed to set the train up too. My Dad always had a big village and a train under the tree when he was around. Our version wasn’t up to par, but it worked out.

On Christmas Eve we all sat and watched ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’ and ‘The Grinch’ and then we went to bed. Those 2 shows always seemed to be televised back to back in those days. I remember wishing that Santa were real. I remember sitting up late staring out the window wondering if Santa would actually come. I also wondered how I got to be chosen for this life. It didn’t seem fair.

The next morning when I woke up I heard my brothers and sister yelling from downstairs like they were crazy. I hurried down to see what was happening and when I got down I was shocked. The whole living room was filled with presents! The village under the tree had disappeared under a mound of bright colored boxes. I just stood there with my eyes big and round and my mouth hanging opened. I was either 9 or 10 and really didn’t believe in Santa but it sure seemed like he had paid us a visit.

For about an hour we all ripped and tore open presents. All kinds of cool stuff that I didn’t realize at the time I had never even asked for. I didn’t care. This was the first time I remember scoring big loot on Christmas. It was great! I couldn’t wait to get to school and have something to brag about for a change. It never occurred to me to wonder about where it came from.

Later our family showed up and we all sat down to an old-fashioned Turkey dinner. I remember going to bed that night feeling like God had finally remembered me and that he had sent Santa to give us a break. I had never been so satisfied. I still haven’t felt as satisfied again.

Now that I am older I know the truth; the church had come by after we were asleep and brought all that stuff. It was one of those ‘Christmas Toys For Kids’ things you hear about. My brain knows that now but I am here to tell you that in my heart, that morning still feels like magic. I still feel the wonder of actually believing that Santa had stopped by. I know intellectually that others who cared helped us but I still love to close my eyes, think back to that morning and remember the feeling. It is one of the best feelings I can ever remember and I try hard to keep it fresh every year.

For one blessed Christmas morning, I was a true believer in Santa Claus.