Holding the Reindeer

He came!!!

The Stringam ranch was far out in the country.

Far out.

But Santa still managed to find it.

In fact, it was probably one of his first stops because he showed up even before the kids had gone to bed.

All of this happened several years BD (Before Diane), but fortunately my Dad still remembers it . . .

Christmas Eve. The sun had long since set and a sparkling winter evening had closed over the old two-storey farmhouse.

Two big-eyed children, ages four and two were listening to stories about the magical Santa and his gift-bearing sleigh and reindeer.

Suddenly, mid-story, their father stood up, apparently hearing noises outside.

“Oh! I think he’s here!” He grinned at the kids, then put on his coat and headed outside, into the blackness.

Both children crowded close to the kitchen door, trying hard to peer into the night and catch a glimpse of this mysterious ‘Santa’.

They didn’t have long to wait.

Or far to peer.

Because the door swung open and Santa stepped right into their kitchen.

Following some general ‘ho-ho-hos’ and some pats on the head, he carried his sack of toys into the front room and proceeded to arrange brightly-coloured packages under the Christmas tree.

The two wide-eyed children drifted dazedly in his wake, observing everything closely.

Finally, the little girl could stand it no longer. “Santa? Did you see Daddy out there?” She glanced toward the kitchen door.

Some general affirmative grunting from the man in red.

“Oh.” A long pause. Then, “Is he holding your reindeer?”

Myth comes up smack against the practical four-year-old brain.

Myth wins.