Since I was a little girl, I always believed in Santa. Every year, I would make a letter showing Santa my Christmas list, telling him how good I was that year and how I really believed in him. Every year, also, I always get everything on my list.
When I was seven years old, I wrote my Christmas letter to Santa as usual. There, I told him I wanted a book. After sealing my letter, I gave it to my Dad to send it to North Pole.
On December 25, something different happened. I opened my present, expecting my book, but instead, I received a blue sling bag. I was shocked when I didn’t receive my gift. Silently, I got up to my room and started crying.
I was crushed. Santa knew I didn’t like bags. At that very moment, I realized something. How could I have been so stupid? Santa isn’t real! He doesn’t even exist.
I cried and cried, reminiscing the years I was fooled until I noticed something on my table. It was a letter. The envelop that sealed it had mistletoes in every corner. I smelled it and it was like fresh pine tree. Though I never smelled a real one, I knew what it smelled like because it smelled like my grandfather’s car freshener. At the center was my name. It was addressed to me!
I opened it and found a piece of parchment. On it was the neatest handwriting ever. It was neater than my teacher who taught me how to write in cursive writing. It said: Sorry for not giving you the right one. But I promise that next year, I’ll give you the best Christmas gift ever….Even better than your book. Always, Santa.
Of course, I was surprised. It was neither my father’s handwriting nor mother’s. My brother and sister didn’t know how to write yet.
Suddenly, I heard a stomp above me. It sounded like footsteps on the roof. I went outside to check it out. What I found made my jaw drop. Through the fireworks, I saw little lights going towards the moon with a big red light leading them. Then, just behind the smoke from the fireworks, I could barely see an outline of a big man. While I was watching, a song entitled “A Christmas Song” was playing loudly on the radio, making the scene so magical.
I told my mother about the lights but she just said that it was a trick of the eye. I wanted to show her the letter but it just vanished.
The next year, I asked Santa for a notebook and a pen for my diary but, instead, I received a cellphone! I was the first in my class to receive a cellphone. The moment I received my gift, I remembered about Santa’s letter and smiled. Santa kept his promise. He did give me the best present ever…much better than a book.
Until now, I still believe in a Santa although a lot would tell me otherwise. But still, I couldn’t help but wonder…was it all just an illusion…or was it really a letter from Santa?
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