Tracks of Santa

By Anonymous

I saw Santa just last year. At my house. And I had not even gone to bed yet, so I know I wasn’t sleepy and dreaming.

I know I’m not crazy either. I am 37 years old and have been around long enough to know better. I was up late after getting my kids to bed. I had one last present a little something I got for my wife — yet to wrap and put under our Christmas tree. After I made sure she wasn’t around and could slip it under the tree without her seeing me.

The room was dark and our tree was glowing. I buried the present way up inside near the base of the tree and I was on my hands and knees when I thought I heard something. I looked over toward the fireplace place, thinking the last of our Christmas Eve fire logs was just smoldering and then I saw them boots! and they were coming down my chimney!

Quickly, I got up and ran to hide behind the door. Then I thought to myself. “What am I doing?” So, I went to go find my wife. She had fallen asleep in the bedroom of our daughter and I had to wake her up. “Get up!” I said. “Get up!” It’s Santa! He’s here!”.

She looked at me for a second and told me to go back to bed. “It’s too early. Please, let the kids sleep a little longer.”

I grabbed her by the shoulders and I said “No, really. It’s him and he’s here right now. In our living room!”.

Now, I always do some sort of surprise for my wife at Christmas. Every year is a little different. And she thought this was my way of surprising her this year. So she said “Honey, all I want for Christmas is a little sleep. That would be a great surprise.” I told her “no, not this year” and dragged her to her feet. I pushed her down the hall and we made it down the stairs.

The living room looked magnificent. Christmas was everywhere. The stockings were bulging and presents for the kids were in abundance. My wife looked at it all and sleepily said “nice job, the kids will love it.”

I couldn’t believe it. Here was evidence of Santa right in front of her and all she wanted to do was sleep. The cookie plate held only crumbs whereas just a few minutes before the plate was full. The glass of milk was empty. The carrots were gone. On my floor, tracks from the soot on Santa’s boots were all over my carpet from the fireplace to the tree.

So, I grabbed my wife’s hand and told her to come with me. In our pajamas we went outside and immediately she started to complain. “It’s outside? Where are we going? Why are you doing this?”

I had to go all the way out into the street but I wanted to see our roof. Sure enough, up there high by the chimney, there were sleigh tracks, boot prints and little stubs of carrots all over our roof. My wife looked hard. Then she looked up at me and gave me a kiss. “Wow” she said, “Santa really did a number this year, didn’t he?” And with that she shuddered from the cold, turned and walked back into the house.

I looked up at our roof again. And somewhere out there in the wind I swear I heard bells.

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