RE: [Histonet] Off Topic: NO SANTA CLAUS

From:"Nancy Lemke"

Merry Christmas to you both and to all Santa's helpers, big and small!

Nancy Lemke
Research Coordinator
Hermelin Brain Tumor Center
Henry Ford Hospital
-----Original message-----
From: "Thomas Jasper"
Date: Thu, 20 Dec 2007 16:09:31 -0500
To: "Ingles Claire"
Subject: RE: [Histonet] Off Topic:  NO SANTA CLAUS

> Thanks Claire, totally awesome.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from
> one of Santa helpers to another.
> Tom Jasper
> Bend, OR (by way of northern WI)
> -----Original Message-----
> From:
> [] On Behalf Of Ingles
> Claire
> Sent: Thursday, December 20, 2007 10:59 AM
> To:
> Subject: [Histonet] Off Topic: NO SANTA CLAUS 
> Sorry if you are not Christian. You can delete, but I think Santa just
> has lots of different names around the world. Everyone - remember what
> you have that never cost anything. Merry Christmas greetings and warm
> wishes to all.
> Claire Ingles
> lifelong Santa's helper
> 					  I remember my first Christmas
> adventure with Grandma. 
> 					I was just a kid. 
> 					I remember tearing across town
> on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: 
> 					"There is no Santa Claus," she
> jeered. "Even dummies know that!" 
> 					My Grandma was not the gushy
> kind, never had been. 
> 					I fled to her that day because I
> knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the
> truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier
> when swallowed with one of her worl d-famous cinnamon buns. 
> 					I knew they were world-famous,
> because Grandma said so. 
> 					It had to be true. 
> 					Grandma was home, and the buns
> were still warm. 
> 					Between bites, I told her
> everything. She was ready for me. 
> 					"No Santa Claus! !" she snorted.
> "Ridiculous! 
> 					" Don't believe it. That rumor
> has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad.' 
> 					Now, put on your coat, and let's
> go." 
> 					"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I
> asked. 
> 					I hadn't even finished my second
> world-famous, cinnamon bun. 
> 					"Where" turned out to be Kerby's
> General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about
> everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten
> dollars. That was a bundle in those days. 
> 					"Take this money," she said,
> "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the
> car." 
> 					Then she turned and walked out
> of Kerby's. I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my
> mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. 
> 					The store seemed big and
> crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.
> For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that
> ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. 
> 					I thought of everybody I knew:
> my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who
> went to my church. 
> 					I was just about thought out,
> when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath
> and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two
> class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. 
> 					I knew that because he never
> went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note,
> telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby
> Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. 
> 					I fingered the ten-dollar bill
> with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on>  a
> red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he
> would like that. 
> 					"Is this a Christmas present for
> someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten
> dollars down. 
> 					"Yes," I replied shyly. "It's
> ... for Bobby." 
> 					The nice lady smiled at me. I
> didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a
> Merry Christmas. 
> 					That evening, Grandma helped me
> wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of
> the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From
> Santa Claus", on a tag-- Grandma said that Santa always insisted on
> secrecy. 
> 					Then she drove me over to Bobby
> Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever
> officially one of Santa's helpers. 
> 					Grandma parked down the street
> from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the
> bushes by his front walk. Then Gr andma gave me a nudge. "All right,
> Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." 
> 					I took a deep breath, dashed for
> his front door, and threw the present down on his step. I pounded his
> door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. 
> 					Together we waited breathlessly
> in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there
> stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments
> spent shivering beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. 
> 					That night, I realized that
> those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they
> were: "Ridiculous". Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. 
> 					I still have the Bible, with the
> tag tucked inside: $19.95. 
> -------------------------------------------------------------------- 
> 					He who has no Christmas in his
> heart will never find Christmas under a tree. 
> 					Have a wonderful holiday season.
> Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!! 
> _______________________________________________
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