My Favorite Christmas
The music you hear is had a bad day
from American Idol.
(The true story of
my favorite Christmas)
by Lamar W. Cook
Copyright © 2006 Lamar Cook All rights reserved
Allow me if you will to tell you a true
story of my most fond memory in life.
One day, while in school a friend told me
there was no Santa Claus. This was not something
an eight year old wanted to hear or believe. I
began by telling him about the reindeer and the
presents under the Christmas tree and of course
most of all about baby Jesus.
He replied by asking me two questions. “If
Santa is real how does he go into every house all
over the world in a single night?”
I smiled, I knew the answer to this one but
he continued. “If Santa is real, why do you see
different Santa’s in stores during Christmas
time?” I sat in my chair and lifted my head up
with pride because I knew the answer. Innocently I
replied, “Santa is magic.”
As the day became night and I sat in my
grandmother’s house I reflected on the questions
my friend had asked. There was one person who
would tell me the truth; she would never lie to
me. My father was having some financial
difficulties at the time and we were forced to
live with my grandmother.
Standing in the doorway of her bedroom I saw
her. She sat quietly on her bed reading a book.
“Granny?” I said as if I was asking a question.
“Yes dear? She softly replied.
I told her about my day and what my friend
had told me. I was sure she would give me an
answer to take back to my friend, so I waited for
her words of wisdom. Gently she laid the book down
and motioned for me to sit on the bed next to her.
With her voice soft and quiet and almost in a
whisper she began to tell me the words that would
change my life.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t have to hear
this but there is something you must know. Your
father has been laid off from his job and times
are hard. I hope you will not be disappointed when
you cannot have all the things you want for
Christmas. But know this, your father loves you
very much.” Gracefully she pulled me into her arms
and hugged me with a hug that only a loving
grandmother can give. Whispering into my ear as
though she knew her words would tear into my heart
she softly spoke with so much emotion in her voice
that she could hardly speak. “My dear, every child
should believe in Santa, you are too young to have
to bear this burden but I know you are strong.
There is no Santa Claus.” I knew my grandmother
would never lie to me and from that day forward I
knew there was no Santa.
Christmas was approaching I had not let my
parents know of my discovery. We had found a small
home to rent. We were poor but happy. The day came
when my mother would take me to see Santa. I sat
in his lap with a concerned look on my face not
sure what I should do. It was the mind of a child
and I was lost between despair and bliss. In some
way, in the back of my mind, I wanted to believe
but I couldn’t. In his usual jolly way Santa asked
me what I wanted for Christmas. I could see out of
the corner of my eye that my mother was listening
intently to every word and to make sure she could
hear I spoke with clarity.
“Santa,” I said proudly, “I would like a
pair of gloves for Christmas.” Quietly I whispered
into his ear that my Dad was out of work and I
knew he could not afford to get me very many
things this year. I didn’t lie. You must remember
the mind of a child at work here, for some reason
I wanted a pair of gloves for Christmas and I
wanted them badly. Of course I wanted something
else but I knew that was impossible. Santa handed
me a piece of candy and my mother smiled as she
took my hand and we left for home.
Years have passed now and I don’t remember
a lot about that Christmas, but I do remember
every single minute of Christmas Eve. It was 2 in
the morning and my dad woke me from a restless
sleep. He had a huge smile and glistened with a
gleam in his eye I will never forget.
“Son, Santa just left…”
That was all I heard, I was out of my bed
in a flash and I ran into the living room where
the tree stood. On the end table sat a half empty
glass of milk and the cookies I had laid out for
Santa. Dad stood next too the milk and cookies,
and as he rubbed his stomach he told me Santa
didn’t’ have time for the cookies but he said the
milk hit the spot.
Under the tree sat four presents, two for
my sister and two for me. I can’t explain to you
what I was feeling at this moment, all I remember
is I was happy and sad at the same time. I opened
my big package and it was a new suit to wear to
church. In the other package was a pair of black
tight fitting gloves, which was just what I
wanted. I knew times were hard but at the same
time I was sad because I didn’t get what I wanted
most of all.
I thanked my mom and dad and told them I
was sleepy and I went back to bed. I wasn’t
sleepy. I just didn’t want my dad to see me cry. I
didn’t want him to know how disappointed I was.
Unable to sleep I lay in bed for several minutes
looking at the full moon that glared through my
bedroom window. Suddenly my dad came bursting in,
“Son,” he said with excitement, “Are you going to
bed before you open your last present?”
“What last present?” I replied.
“Come and see,” he said with a grin.
As I stood in the living room I saw the
most incredible thing I had ever seen. Sitting in
that little living room with one couch and a 13”
black and white television was the most beautiful
go-cart I had ever seen.
Later I discovered what had happened. My
dad’s heart was broken after I went back to bed.
Somehow he knew I was trying to be brave and he
couldn’t stand the thought of his son going to bed
on Christmas Eve thinking he had let me down. He
had planned a big surprise for me on Christmas
day; he wanted me to see the go-cart on Christmas
morning but once he heard his son crying, alone in
his bedroom, he brought the go-cart inside.
I don’t remember exactly when I found out.
Looking back I think it was the day after
Christmas. As I played outside I saw my dad
walking to work. Even an eight year old could tell
something was wrong. When I asked him why he was
walking he replied that it was good for people to
walk and he needed the exercise. What I didn’t
know was my father had sold the only possession he
had left. He had sold his car so he could give his
only son the greatest Christmas present in the
Yes there is a Santa Claus I told my friend
at school and he walks to work everyday.
I hope you enjoyed this story, it is true
and it is my most fond memory in life. When times
are hard and things aren’t going quite like I
would like I remember that Christmas and it warms