How did he know every time I wondered lifting the porcelain doll in the air. I held it close, admiring every inch of it, even how the light reflected off the tiny glass eyes almost making it seem alive. I smiled and set the doll down next to me on top of the layer of shredded wrapping paper that covered the floor. I love Christmas. I love the smell. I love the anticipation. I love taking those beautifully wrapped presents and shredding them apart wildly to see whatever treasure lie inside. Oh, and I really like candy canes. But what I really loved most was the safe feeling I got when my mom and dad wrap me up and read to me in front of the fire and don’t even complain if I eat more than one cookie.
* * *
Mommy and Daddy don’t lie. I asked them one time. I asked specifically at dinner. I remember because it was over spaghetti with tomato sauce which is my favorite meal. After taking a really long time to chew Mommy looked me right in the eyes and said We might not tell you things the things you’re not ready to hear, but we promise we won’t lie to you. I didn’t understand that first part. What could I not be ready for? I know mostly everything already. I know most of the abc’s and I know which ones are vowels. I know that the difference between red and read is that one is a color and I’m only in kindergarten. But I guess that there are some things that I don’t know too. I don’t know why daddy leaves sometimes and why it makes mommy cry and grandma come over with wine and popcorn and old movies to make her feel better. I asked mommy why she was crying one time and she said it wasn’t daddys fault. I asked again. She shooed me away. I guess I’m not ready yet. There are some other things too. Like how come that one time last year on Christmas Eve when I took my sleeping bag downstairs and hid underneath the dining room table I never saw Santa come down the chimney even though I kept my eyes open until I saw the sun peeking through the clouds even though the moon was still out. I remember falling asleep under that table and trying to ignore the burning of tears that was stinging my throat and eyes. But when I woke up there were so many presents. And I remember being so happy that I started to cry again, but this time happy. And I remember brushing tears away with my hand and then noticing the smudge on my hand where the tears had mixed with the ink that said You can’t catch magic. Love, Santa.
Well its for school and Ive got to make it a mystery so I was gonna have her try and find out who santa really was.
