Post by momof3 on Dec 13, 2006 9:26:39 GMT -6
Adventure With Grandma
>>
>>
>>
>> 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 Bobby Decker 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 on his door, 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 Bobby Decker'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. MERRY CHRISTMAS...my friends!!!
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> 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 Bobby Decker 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 on his door, 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 Bobby Decker'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. MERRY CHRISTMAS...my friends!!!
>>