a christmas story!

i love christmas.  i heart it.  it’s the most awesomest holiday EVER.  motherfuckin’ *santa* is comin’!  yippee!!

so, mah tree is up…

my fireplace is ~lit~...

(chestnuts roasting on a ... bunchacandles…)

and i’m busy busy busy gettin’ everything else ready.  have i mentioned i really love christmas?

while roaming the internets, i came across this article the other day (a 2008 series of interviews with mall santas):

“I don’t hear kids wanting Wii’s or Barbies. They want Daddy to come back, they want socks and shoes,” he tells me adjusting his red hat, taking in the cool breeze from the fan pointing directly at him.

it caught my eye, because i used to work at the toy store in that mall, many many many….many.  moons ago. 

the last year i was there, we’d a little boy, maybe 4 or 5 years old, who used to hang around all day by himself.  his mother worked at the walgreen’s *diner* (yes, they used to have a diner!) and she couldn’t afford daycare.  since he pretty much had the run of the mall, he made friends with those of us at all his regular stops, but the toy store was ~obviously~ his favorite place.  i had a brother close in age and, feeling sorry for this little boy with nothing to do all day but roam the mall, i pretty much adopted him as my “little helper”.

his mother and i would wave at one another, though i don’t think we ever spoke.  she only knew me as ~the toy store girl~.  the other employees, even the store manager, would “find” open toy packages and leave them for me to give him.  he’d draw and color pictures for me, “help” me stock toys, play store security (“miss, i think that boy has a tonka truck under his shirt” - like i’d not noticed), and just generally became a fixture in our store.  i’d come into work and they’d tell me, “your little friend was here looking for you”. 

daily, he’d follow me around, babbling non-stop.  repeatedly, he’d tell me that all he wanted was for his dad to come back home.  his dad had gone to “this place called cadifurnia” looking for a job and his mom and he had no furniture in their tiny apt.  he hoped to someday have a real bed.  absolutely broke my heart.

then one day, just days before christmas, i came into work and there stood the little boy… WITH BOTH HIS PARENTS!  his father had come home - bringing a bed, new clothes, and a whole heap load of happiness for one little boy.  his parents had brought me a gift (perfume and a tray) as a thank you (i told them it wasn’t necessary, he was a delight to have hanging around) and begged me to take a picture on santa’s lap with their son (which i did. poor santa.).

every christmas, i remember that lil boy and wonder where he’s gotten to and how well he fared in life.

koorosh, wherever you might be, i hope the happiness you felt that christmas has stayed with you always.

and may ~all of you~ have as wonderful a christmas, as well.

i’ll leave you with this, my favoritest christmas song EVER:

maurice chevalier - jolly old st nicholas

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aww I love happy endings