Christmas was always more special when you’re a kid. You’d always get more presents. There was much more excitement with the anticipation of Santa’s arrival and his subsequent leaving presents. It was something magical in my youthful mind. I never could figure out exactly how and when the presents were left. Sometimes I’d get up in the middle of the night and see if Santa had come. Most of the time he hadn’t yet. And I didn’t want to jinx it by even looking, figuring Santa would know if I had gotten out of bed to look. Insomina on Christmas Eve was a global phenomenon among Christian youth. I could never sleep. And sometimes I’d get up at 5:30AM to see what Santa had left. Then it was up to my dad to put the toys together.
Santa always left 2 stacks of toys…one for me and one for my sister. It usually wasn’t hard to tell the difference, even without nametags. And I always wondered how my friends…with multiple same-sex siblings, figured out who’s Santa gifts were who’s. I guess that’s where nametags come in…vital for large families.
My mom kept many of my letters to Santa. She stores them in scrapbooks somewhere, along with any of them that were printed in the local paper. Which reminds me, I completely missed any letters written to Santa which were printed in the Lebanon Democrat. Do they still do this anymore?