A year with no Santa? Mary's Blog
Every year my little girl fantasy gets carried away with the hopes and wonder of Christmas. I admittedly believed in Santa until I was past the fifth grade. (I still believe and that is the point of this article)
I remember Very vividly going down to my friend’s house on the 23rd of December. We were all off for Christmas break. Yes, in 1970 we still referred to winter holiday as Christmas break! So as I walked down the block to my friend Mary’s house, I was looking forward to the coming days with great anticipation. Her house was always so perfect, nothing ever out of place. Her father had just replaced the dingy light in the kitchen with a drop ceiling hiding rows and rows of fluorescent lights with a neat plastic covering that had little notches, kind of like diamonds twinkling above, and translucent with bluish fluorescent light streaming through them. I was impressed. We still had the wagon wheel style lamp that danced above half way between the counter where the little kids sat and ate and the stove.
Mary and her mom always had an interesting relationship. Mary was a late in life child. The age difference between her oldest brother and herself was enough that her nephews were her age. I thought that was quite unique and it put Mary at an advantage in the growing up department. They often talked and argued more like sisters than a bantering between mother and daughter. Now do not get me wrong. I had a few squabbles with my mom too, but somehow it was diminished due to the fact that Mary’s siblings were out of the house for the most part and, well, as for me, there were still 6 of us at home ranging in age from about 6 to 18!
It was getting dark and the clock read 4:15. I still can see the clock in their kitchen. I think I was keeping my eye on it as I was always running a little late. I began to share tales with Mary and her mom about how excited I was that Santa would be delivering gifts to our house in less than 48 hours! You can only imagine what mortification I felt as they both turned, looked at me, exchange a quirky smile, (you know the kind that indicates the other parties knows something you don’t) and then broke out into a chuckle. “Oh honestly, you do not really believe that there is a Santa, do you?” I could see Mary’s mother so clearly, she was challenging me to argue, to dare to suggest that I did indeed believe. “I, I, I, well, I guess not.”
I left, ran, I was so upset. I wanted to cry. I guess in my logical brain I knew the truth, but in my heart, I wanted so much to believe, to believe that there could be someone in the world who would want to visit me, to share treasures, to visit and seek me out, special. I went into the kitchen to find my mom cooking, I could see her over the counter through the steam. The room lit with that doggone light. Why couldn’t it have been brighter? I told my mother of my encounter. I was so down, the Christmas spirit had been dashed, hopeless. "What was the use?"
Mom in her wisdom assured me that indeed Santa could be in my heart and as long as I chose to believe, it would be real and indeed Santa would bless my Christmases for many years to come.
That same year I remember my mother was also a little down. She feared there was not enough money to make it a really good Christmas. As my memory serves me, I reassured her that the most important part was the time we would spend together on Christmas Eve in the house on Evergreen with her traditional candlelight, a feast of cookies, eggnog, sausage, cheeses of many kinds and her cheese ball.
That Christmas Santa did indeed visit us. There were more than enough presents to go around, and the miracle of family, Santa, food, wonder, dreams, miracles and festivities all in the name of the Christ-child.
To this day I look for a Santa encounter. I remember a time or two that I did not get to feel that feeling. I remember a years that there was no Santa. It was sad, I looked and looked and I did not have one of those special encounters. I wondered if I would this year. Lo and behold it came today! The day was not off to a good start. Sometimes being a grown up is the worst thing in the world when you are suppose to be filled with the wonder of the season.
So, off I went with my middle daughter Aubrey. We would do a little early shop around. No serious shopping, just a little stop here and there to cash in on a special deal or two.
We were driving through the Lighthouse mall in Michigan City, when Aubrey announced that she spied a red suit! “It is Santa!”, she exclaimed! I quickly assured her that there was no way, no way! My denial turned to a “where, where, hurry, park this car, we gotta go!”
As we approached the mall, I could see the man in the red suit and Mrs. Santa too. Aubrey had to make a necessary pit stop, so I asked her to please hurry as I wanted to get a picture of her and Santa. She mumbled, a no way and I was rather insistent. We were quite a distance away from the Jolly old elf. I kept my eye on him as she went into her pit stop. As she came out, I begged her to let me take her picture, she said “No!”
We walked along smiling when Mrs. Claus asked if we would like a candy cane, of course we did. As we were walking away Mr. Santa said, “would you like a picture with us?” Now, how in the world did he guess that? There was no way he could have heard us! I smiled and said, “yes!”
Next thing I know was I was taking out my camera phone and Santa was asking a stranger to take our picture. It was magic!
Yes, Mary there is a Santa, and for as long as this Mary lives, there will be a desire to have a Santa moment and I know all too well what a Christmas without Santa is all about!
More about ArtSeesDiner!
Mary Elizabeth, aka ME, is the dreamer of the wordweavers. For over fifteen years there has been a daily (well pretty darn close to daily) fascination with opening ArtSees Diner. A humanities center with coffee at the center of the gathering table. The coffee part is not original, nor is gathering around a table to share stories so as to connect, to ponder life and the complexity of such, but a humanities center, when blended with a special dose of generous spirit, the creation of another place, a home away from home. Now, these days that is a little original. I dreamed of mismatched couches, personalized cups brought from patron's homes, a special brew of coffee (I found the coffee after about ten years of searching on a sisterly cruise, called Raven's Brew ) and people to share their stories, music, their longings for life, with a gentle touch and a family of amazing "wordweavers".
It grew to become a place to learn, and triumph. To reach out to those who needed a special place to go to. I searched in Indianapolis. I looked into Carmel, Indiana. Pondered and roamed Lincoln Park, Chicago Illinois, (other areas in Chicago as well). Plainfield Illinois, Cold Spring New York, my hometown of Kankakee, Illinois, and finally found a place to plant the seed in...drum roll please! Michigan City, Indiana. Why Michigan City? Well, it has what I want...water, sand, trees, diversity, streets to walk down, a farmer's market, vintage homes. It has what a good number of places before it had and didn't have. It is a culmination of a few years searching.
Regrettably due to job changes, dramatic life changes, student loans, economy and a few other bumps along life's highway there isn't a "real" place to house ArtSees Diner, but rather there is a virtual diner. A "third place" that will hold a "reservation" in the world until such time that a "real" diner will be born.
So for now I have gathered together members of my family to spin a yarn or two in true Harold Lester Rapier fashion. (go here and search back to January and you too can read about the "ten wordweavers in a row" ) You see we are wordweavers, born from the love of the written word. There is no power more piercing, more rivoting than the written word, well except for the rapid wit wielded from the tip of a Rapier. Shakespeare knew of the power of the Rapier and the mighty influence as evidenced in Hamlet.
So please join ME and the rest of the wordweavers as we entertain you the reader. ArtSeesdiner is a project of ArtSees Productions , under the direction of ME, Mary E. LaLuna. Enjoy!
Sweet Peach Wine (short story) on Podcast Sweet Peach Wine (poem) on Podcast
