Good morning memory mavens! Sorry about skipping a give away post yesterday… my Mom and Dad flew in from St. Louis, and we spent the day getting my house ready for the hoards. Ok, and chatting…and eating…and grocery shopping (with the rest of civilization).
So today to make it up to you, Lucy will pick two winners! Fa la la la laaaaaa…
If you are just catching this blog, or this series, I am giving away lovely prizes in exchange for your holiday memories. It has been tons of fun, and all together spirit spit shining!
Today I want to talk about Santa.
****Spoiler Alert**** This post may contain the suggestion that someone is not real. These are not necessarily the views of the writer of this blog or the affiliated company or it's employees. We all still leave cookies out. Just to be on the safe side.
I personally believed in Mr. Claus longer than I probably should have. I say this because in order to fall in with a well-liked and un-ridiculed social group in grade school one must be cool. You can be smart, but not too smart. You can be funny, but not too funny. You can even have buckteeth and a boy's haircut, but you have to have had a cool older brother. I fell squarely in none of these categories (except for the buckteeth and boy's haircut one) and spent most of my grade school and middle school years teetering on the edge of acceptance. It was kind of terrible and I would like to publicly thank my childhood best friend, Annie Fehlig for teaching me how to be smarter, funnier and why I didn't really want a cool older brother after all. But that is a story for later.
So there I was in 5th grade, teetering, and that was the year I finally got real, solid proof that Santa existed. I also decided that sharing my proof with the kids in my class, instead of quietly keeping my little discovery to myself, was a really good idea.
Awesome.
That year we got snow on Christmas eve, which was unusual for St.Louis, so when my little brother (who, by the way, never teetered) and I woke up Christmas morning, instead of bee-lining it to the tree we rushed to the back window of our house to see the blanket of un-spoiled snow sparkling in our backyard.
That's when we saw them.
Sleigh tracks. Huge, way-bigger-than-anything-that-could-possibly-have-been-made-with-ANY-of-our-sleds sleigh tracks!!! And huge boot tracks walking right up to our back door!! (We did not have a fire place so Santa had to come to the back door…we liked to think he enjoyed the break.) That was not all!! There were also reindeer tracks…right out in front of the sleigh. We couldn't believe our eyes.
No, seriously. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was eleven. I was a little past even a doubt in my mind that my parents were fronting this operation plus, there were major social implications to even the suggestion that you still believed (even if it was just cause you had a kid brother.) And yet there, on Christmas morning in the perfect, new, sparkly snow… was proof.
I won't tell you how it happened, or how long I ate lunch by myself after that. But I will tell you that I stuck to my guns. I know what I saw, and I wasn't going to let a little thing like the rest of my pre-teen years stop me from spreading the word! The bottom line is that I wanted him to be real, and I wanted the other kids to too. I kind of still do.
So, tell me what made you believe. Share your story and win fun stuff! Today we will pick two winners and they will get this:
The deal is the same:
Your comments are your entries. One comment per person please. Winners will be picked by Lucy. (At random) Comments will be accepted until 10am EST Friday 12/24
Can't Wait to hear your stories!
