Glancing

Tis the night before Christmas and on our dark street
Stands a jolly old man with black booted feet.
The children are reading, getting ready for bed
With visions of Santa Claus filling their heads.
Comin’ up the mountain, walking down the road
Jingle-ing, ringle-ing, past every abode.
Where he stashes his sleigh, no one has guessed.
But he waves at the children whose noses are pressed
Close to the windows with eyes popping out
‘Cause here is their hero! Just walking about!
Then laying his finger aside of his nose
And allowing one picture,
Down the mountain he goes
Not one word passed his lips as he faded from sight
But my heart is still flooded with the joys of this night.

Coming home from a holiday party, crushed into the backseat of a car with my grandson, I listened to the three of us filling in all the Santa details for Lennon and I wondered why it is so important for us that he believe?

Once we were home they went upstairs and I went inside to cram myself into the beautiful Santa suit we had borrowed for this night. There was a moment or two where I feared I might suffer the ignominious experience of being too big to fit into a Santa Claus suit! But it was a groundless fear. I did discover that Santa really needs the assistance of Mrs. Claus or some elves if he expects to get into all those pieces without a great deal of huffing and puffing, but eventually I had the boot toppers over tied black shoes, (the tying was almost a miracle,) the belt all the way around and buckled and the beard tucked up under my nose so it looked quite real (which I suppose the jolly old elf, himself, does not have to worry about .)

Packing the sleigh bells in the top of my bag, I set off up the mountain wearing about twenty pounds of costume on a rainy southern Christmas Eve and arrived on Newfound street hobbled by the age of this wondrous old spirit who had taken over my body. My bells how they jingled as I walked down the street, waving at cars who passed by and making lots of noise so the requisite children would know I was there.

I came to the window where my grandson stood, tiny little nose pressed to the rainy window, gazing intently into the night. I winked and waved, but it wasn’t until his father grabbed a video camera and shone its bright light on me that I understood. The glancing look of awe on his face, the joy and adoration in his eyes are something I will never forget.