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Santa Claus

In our family we were told that there was a real Santa Claus, and we believed it. About a week or two before Christmas, he would appear at night after chores. He would rap on a window and always show a big stick. That was to show us that if we wanted to get any presents at all, we'd better be good. Then as Christmas came nearer, he would come into the house. He'd shake hands with us and shake his head, but he'd never talk.

I was afraid of him, and would often run upstairs in the dark and crawl under the covers. I'm not sure of what would have happened if he had ever followed me upstairs.

One night when he came into the house, he brought a little red wagon along. It was for my youngest sister, Mildred, who was probably about 2 years old. She got into the wagon and Santa gave her a ride right to the outside door. We were always told that if we were naughty, Santa would take us to the North Pole and we would become one of his brownies or elves. I was sure that this was what was going to happen to Middy when he pulled her to the outside door. Not wanting to lose her, I screamed bloody murder, so he wheeled her back.

I was always sorry that our dad never got to see Santa, as he had always gone to the neighbors every time he came. One night as he came into the house and shook hands with us, I made the remark (in all innocence) that his hands were rough, just like Dad's. I got whisked away and told not to say anything to the younger kids. Although I was perfectly innocent, and didn't know that I had given away a secret, I learned that night that there was no Santa Claus. I learned too that that was the reason Dad had gone to visit the neighbors every time Santa came!