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Dec. 23, 2001 |
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MURCIA  with his debut column for TheColumnists.com |
 for Santa Christmas Seen Through A 4-Year-Old's Eyes |
Andy Joe prayed for lights
and Santa for Christmas
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through the eyes of his son, Andy Joe at age four. That's Andy Joe at right--enjoying his fourth Christmas. |
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By ANDY MURCIA
for TheColumnists.com
One Christmas Eve, when I was a little boy, Mom and
Dad took me to an Italian restaurant to eat dinner. I had lots
of fun there. I sat right between Mom and Dad, who gave me all
their attention. I remember we were laughing, hugging and kissing
all through our meal. Mom called it "our little family love-in."
We were all so very happy.
I had pasta to eat: Slippery, stringy stuff with tomato sauce
all over it. Boy, was it ever good! Well, I mean until I accidentally
put too much pepper on it. I thought it was cheese. It wasn't.
Because I already had eaten
enough of it, with dessert still to come, Mom had the waiter
put the rest of my pasta in a doggie bag.
People stopped by our table as we were eating dessert and told
Mom and Dad they thought I was a very handsome little boy and
so well behaved in the restaurant. They saw Mom and Dad hugging
and kissing me throughout our meal. They told me how lucky I
was to have parents who loved me so much. But Mom told them she
and Dad were the lucky ones because I was a gift from God to
them. I felt so proud to be with Mom and Dad. We soon finished
our dessert and left the restaurant with me holding my doggie
bag.
We then went driving in Dad's bright red truck. He let me sit up front on his lap, so I could see better. We looked at all the houses with their colored Christmas lights so bright. Dad told me Santa had put up the lights for all the good children to see. I said Santa sure works hard. I asked Mom why there were no lights at our house? She said Santa would come soon and do ours, so not to worry. She seemed to be very sure he would, but that's my Mom for you. She has lots of faith. I like that about Mom.
Dad drives real slow and he had me looking for stop signs. It’s a favorite game we've been playing since I was a real little guy. It goes like this: I say, "There's one!" And I spell out S-T-O-P, then say the word STOP. After that, I say: "Kiss the Baby, Da-Da!" Then Dad leans over, gives me a hug and several kisses on my head. I can tell this means so much to Dad. He really likes it when I say, "Kiss the Baby, Da-Da!" That's his favorite part.
Soon I started getting sleepy, though. I was hoping Santa would come fast and make our house as pretty as the others. As we neared our house, I could see that it was still as dark as when we left it--no Christmas lights at all. As I started to doze off, I prayed Santa would visit our house soon and put some lights up. I told Mom about this and she reminded me that Christmas was the birthday of our savior Jesus Christ and that, with or without lights, we still had much to celebrate at church tomorrow. Mom was right, but I still whispered a secret prayer to him that Santa would come to my house, SOON!
Dad stopped at our driveway,
got out to open the gate, then drove our truck into the garage.
As we all got out, Mom and Dad took my hand and as we walked
through the backyard gate: WOW! Our entire yard was filled with
Christmas lights!
They were everywhere--along the rooftop and along all the trees
and bushes. I looked at my Mom and Dad and said, "Santa
was here!"
Then Dad found a note on the fence from Santa, which said:
"Dear Andy Joe: As
you can see, I did not forget you. Enjoy the Christmas lights.
Jesus said he heard your prayer and asked me to do it. They are
for you and all the good children in your neighborhood to enjoy.
I'm sleeping in your playhouse tonight. I hope it's okay? Feel
free to come in and see that I'm there, but please, try not to
wake me, as this is my busiest time of year and I really need
to get my rest. Thank you, Love, Santa."
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crash somewhere, right? Well, this time it was in Andy Joe's playhouse! |
Boy, was I excited! Santa's sleeping in my playhouse! We all hurried to the playhouse and as Dad opened the door, I could see a pair of feet with big toes hanging over the bed. We tip-toed in. Sure enough, there he was, Santa. His big black boots were next to the bed, his blanket was up to his great white beard, and boy was he snoring, just like my Dad. Santa also whistled the Jingle Bells song each time he breathed outward. His big tummy was rising and falling with each breath he took. Holy cow! My friend Joe--he lives across the street--would never believe this.
We quietly tip-toed out
and closed Santa's door. We just stood there on the porch looking
at the pretty lights in the yard, when Mom said, "See, you're
such a good boy, Santa came to see you after all."
Dad had his arm on my right shoulder and Mom had hers on my left
shoulder. We were so happy as we stood there. We hugged each
other and then I closed my eyes tight as I said another little
prayer:
"Dear Jesus: Thank you so much for all you do for us. Thank
you for getting my Mom better when she was sick a while back,
and for watching over my Dad when he was a policeman. I love
them so much. Just one more thing Jesus, please always let me
remember this Christmas over all the others you may grant me.
It's important to Dad, Mom and me, because it's the first time
I was old enough to understand what Christmas is all about. I
learned it's about families being together and it's also about
love. I’m happiest when I'm together with my Mom and my
Dad. I know they love me so much and I love them with all my
heart.
The next day was Christmas. As I was getting dressed
for Church, Mom asked me where my "doggie Bag" was
with my leftover pasta in it. I remembered I had put it down
next to Santa's bed the night before.
"I'll go get it, Mom," I said.
I knocked on Santa's door, but nobody answered. So, I opened
the door and noticed he was gone. He had made his bed, too. And
there was the doggie bag, all right, but it was empty. Then I
saw this little note written on it:
"Dear Andy Joe: Thank you for the nice pasta dinner. I sure
was hungry when I woke up. I thank you for letting me sleep in
your playhouse. I'm off to deliver my goodies now and I want
you to know I love you." It was signed "Santa."
I ran to show the note to Mom and Dad, but the wind blew it out of my hand and skyward it flew. I watched as it disappeared high above the tree tops.
Later, as I sat in church
with Mom and Dad, celebrating the birthday of baby Jesus, I could
swear I heard Santa fly over our church with his reindeer and
his sleigh. You may wonder why I knew it was Santa out there.
Well, that's because I heard him sneeze quite a few times and
I guessed that was from all that pepper I accidentally put on
my pasta that Christmas Eve.
And that's why I think I'll remember that Christmas all the rest
of my life.
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allergic to pepper? |
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©2001 by Andy Murcia. The illustrations are from IMSI's
Master Clips Collection, 1895 Francisco Blvd. E., San Rafael,
CA, 94901-5506, USA.
You can comment
on this column or contact Andy Murcia with an email to: talkback@thecolumnists.com
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