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Waiting for Santa
Early in December I started to look for the tracks in the snow because I knew that Santa would be out to keep an eye on all the children and I feared that he'd see me when I was up to no good. When I had made sure that there were no tracks and that no one else saw me I'd sneak up the stairs and into the walk in closet where I knew that Santa would place the Christmas presents.
There was a big fur coat hanging there and I'd hide in it and sit there in silence hoping that I'd catch Santa when he came to leave the presents. Some days when I got there there would be new presents and I'd hang over them trying to read the labels and see who had gotten a present and how hadn't. I never touched the presents though since I feared that Santa would find out.
I went to the closet every day but I never got to see Santa. Then one day about a week before Christmas I had grown tired of waiting and I was on my way down the stairs, walking slowly trying to make sure that no one saw me. Someone was moving around in the kitchen and I stepped back into the shadow from the curtain covering the window in an attempt to hide.
Then, suddenly, there was a hard knock on the window! My heart stopped and I jumped around and looked out. On the outside I saw Santa and he was holding his finger up as if he was scolding me for my mischief.
I flew down the stairs, through the kitchen and landed underneath my bed pulling my duvet and my stuffed animals with me in the process. My heart was pounding and I was so scared that I felt sick. I had been up to no good and Santa had found me out, I could see how he'd take all my presents and that I'd be without when Christmas came.
I didn't go up the stairs again and for the following week I tried to be perfectly good at all times, doing what I was told to do and trying very hard to not make any mistakes. When no one was looking I'd look for tracks and there were none, so I felt sure that I had scared away Santa and that he'd never come back.
Christmas finally arrived and everybody was happy, except me of course since I knew what I had done. The house filled with happy and laughing relatives and there was plenty of food and candy but I couldn't eat since I was sick with worry. What if Santa never came back? Time moved slowly and I didn't know what to do with myself while waiting so I simply wandered around the house looking out through the windows hoping to see him coming to our house.
The first time I saw him he drove by with horse and sleigh but he didn't look at our house or slow down and my heart sank. The next time I saw him he was leaving a neighbour's house and then he turned and waked away from our house. I wanted to cry, because that pretty much said it all to me. I had scared him away and ruined Christmas for everyone in the house. I decided that it was time for me to confess to my parents and tell them why Santa wouldn't come to our house.
As I walked through the hallway looking for them I heard a lot of noise from outside and then loud stomping outside the door. Then the door flew wide open and I could see not one, not two but three Santas on their way in. My heart stopped and once again I flew all the way under my bed.
One of my favourite stuffed animals was a huge yellow dog and I put it in front of me and peeked out behind his big ears. Three Santas, all carrying big and heavy bags. I hadn't ruined Christmas after all. Feeling a bit braver I held the dog in front of me and moved closer to the living room so that I could see them.
They were giving presents to my family and my relatives and I was so happy that I cried. My grandmother noticed me and and lifted me up into her lap and soothed me.
"This is no good," she said, "no one should cry when it's Christmas."
Then one of the Santas came up to me and gave me a present and then I got another and another and I took them all and put them to the side. I was so happy that I hadn't ruined Christmas that I didn't care what was in my presents and I don't remember when I opened them or what was in them.
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