When I was a kid, I would leave out cookies for Santa and milk for Rudolph every Christmas Eve before I went to bed. Having been one of those kids who was never asked to join in any reindeer – I mean, playground – games, I felt an affinity for Rudolph, one that I didn’t feel towards the other eight reindeer. So, he got the bowl of milk. I didn’t expect him to share with the others either.
I would always include a letter to Santa with the treats, written on a pretty Christmas card. Sure, I sat on his lap at the mall and told him all about the Cabbage Patch Kids or Jem dolls I wanted, but he saw so many kids during the span between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I wanted to be sure he remembered me and leaving personalized Christmas cards seemed like a good way to make an impression. It never dawned on me that a “reminder card” put out on Christmas Eve may be a little too late. Santa was magic, after all. He’d make it happen.
I usually found whatever it was I asked for under the tree when I woke up early the next morning. The cookies and milk were gone, and a brightly wrapped package or twelve rested on the tree skirt. I do remember one time, though, when Santa wrote back.
While most of the specifics are hazy, I imagine his note – written on a holiday card, just like mine to him – mentioned what a good girl I’d been and reminded me to be a good girl for my parents for the New Year. After all, he was watching, right? The one detail I do remember, though, is that his handwriting was so sloppy, it looked like he misspelled my name. In fact, he called me by a boy’s name!
I showed my mother the offending holiday card, wondering how Santa could possibly address my Christmas card to Lee, and not Dee. Somehow, she explained the “error” all away. I guess moms are good at that.
Whenever I find myself “bah-humbugging” the holidays, I think of Santa and the magic he brings to Christmas. The kid in me still remembers. And, I have to confess, I still look at the table near the tree each year and wonder if he’ll leave me Christmas cards and write me again.