A sweet Christmas
Our Christmas was a merry one again this year. It was fun to see our young son Henry open his presents. Before heading downstairs he woke us up and asked if we thought it was OK to do so.
I was a little concerned that maybe it was only 2 a.m. so I told him maybe we should check the clock first. He said, “Wait a minute, let’s listen for bells” — as in sleigh bells.
So we listened and didn’t hear anything. I checked the clock in the bathroom and it said it was 4:30 a.m. — that’s a lot better than 2! We started down the stairs and he spotted a large box.
“Wow! Look at that big present!” he said.
Then he noticed the new bike with a big red bow on it in front of the tree as well.
After he tore into the big package, which was a play kitchen set, he noticed the nearby empty plate where we put cookies and milk for Santa the night before.
“See, Santa was here,” he said.
It turns out Santa does like peanut butter cookies, though Henry disagreed that night before.
“But Santa doesn’t like peanut butter cookies,” Henry said when I fetched them for the plate.
“Of course he does,” I said. “That’s why daddy made them.”
Just a few crumbs were left behind on the plate — strategically placed by me, of course!
The night before while putting the cookies on the plate, Henry said he wanted to leave Santa a note: “Thank you for coming Santa. Love, Henry.” As he placed the small piece of notepaper on the plate with glee and gratitude it was all I could do to keep from crying. Why can’t life always be this sweet?
Hanson can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.