My coat and leggings were made of itchy red wool, and I sucked on the black velvet ribbon that tied under my chin. Santa Claus seemed scary and I cried at first, but the lady with the flashbulb held a candy cane that would be mine if I smiled for the camera. Meeting Santa Claus that year is my earliest memory—I was two. He must have made a good impression!
Do you remember meeting Santa?
1 comment:
Not sure it was my first time meeting Santa, but it's the first I recall.
I was about four or five years old and had only one thing to request; I wanted him to dekiver food to all the starving children in China. (I wasn't much of an eater and Mom invoked the image of starving Chinese children all the time.)
So eventually we were introduced. I climbed onto Santa's lap and began explaining what I wanted. But the whole time we are visiting, I'm thinking, "He has scotchtape holding his mustache on."
By the time I got off his lap, I was putting things together; this guy wearing a disguise, Santa's ability to be in multiple places at the same time (and that was just in town). I knew my parents were trying to pull a fast one, and I stopped believing that evening. I did fake it for my parents' sake for a few years, however.
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