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Thursday, Dec. 25, 2003 - 2:59 a.m. A CHRISTMAS DREAM
I was up late last night, as I usually am every Christmas eve, in the darkness of my den with the flashing lights of ESPN lighting up my face. To the side of my sofa, flashing in the window, was the scanty old plastic Christmas tree I had dragged out of my attic even though it was missing several branches. Hanging on it were various colored ornaments, some new, some old, some faded, some cracked, and still others that were old childhood crafts that somehow end up on the tree every year. Intertwined within the naked branches were the thin string of lights of which many no longer worked. Beneath the tree, lying on its plywood base, were these two presents, one from my parents and one from my godmother. Both of them remained in the boxes in which they were mailed. Each had strict instructions for them not to be opened until Christmas morning. My eyes grew weary and I began to yawn, fighting to stay awake in order to view the Sugar Bowl preview show. My body began to lean to the right as my head craved the padding of my sofa's plush arm rest. I then lifted my legs to recline and yanked down the blanket covering the back of the sofa in order to cover my body. If I fall asleep, I might as well do it here, I thought to myself. As my eyes closed for the final time that evening, I felt a sudden crash that shook all the dishes in my kitchen, even knocking off some ornaments from the tree. Startled by the noise, I sprung up of the sofa to see what had happened. Above me I could hear the pattering of several footprints on my roof. I wondered if had started to rain, but I realized the taps were far too loud. I then thought that a branch, or even a tree perhaps, had fallen on my roof. But then the pattering gave way to one thump after another, shaking the entire house, as though a dinosaur was stomping on my roof. Suddenly, I smelled the odor of soot filling the room. Turning around, I saw a huge cloud of black in front of me. Behind it, I saw my old fireplace, which had never been used in years, puffing out ashes as though the chimney was collapsing from within. Finally, with a final huge gush of sooty cloud I found myself completely blinded. After fanning my arms and wiping my eyes, I saw something that scared the living daylights out of me. Out of the cloud was this humongous monster in this red fur. To its side was this giant velvet bag noosed with a golden string. Immediately I yelled in horror, for I had no idea who or what this was. I immediately lost my footing and landed on the ground. Hurting from the fall, I realized I must have just mistaken a common thing for a big red monster. Scared of what I might see, I slowly turned my head. Before I could do so, I heard a loud, deep chuckling, as though some old man was laughing as me for seeing me fall on my rear. When I finished turning my head, I saw this white-gloved hand extended in front of my face. "Hear, let me help you up," the deep voice said. With a tug of my arm I found my self standing again, face to face with this enormous long-white bearded old man in a furry red suit and hat that looked as though he weighed three-hundred pounds. With an apologetic look on his face, he told me in a deep, almost jovial voice, "I am sorry to disturb you. Normally this doesn't happen. Something must have gone wrong this time." Right away I asked, "Who are you, and what are you doing messing up my den!" Once again he roared in laughter, grabbing his enormous belly as it shook like a giant bag of jello. He then shook his head in a negative fashion and turned to the gigantic velvet sack to pick it up. Heaving it over his shoulder, he stooped down toward my fireplace as though he was trying to go back into it. As he began to dip his head beneath the top of the mantle, I cried out to him, "Stop! What are you doing to my fireplace? You have made enough mess already." He turned to me with a chuckle and said, "You don't have the only house on Earth, you know." He then bent over, took a giant heave, as though he was trying to hold his breath, and with all his might, contracted all the weight around his body so that he could fit himself into the square hole in front of him. Completely amazed by what I was witnessing, I saw him slithering into the fireplace like a snake, until all I could see were his big black boots hanging down. At that moment, I dove toward the fireplace and grabbed hold of his boots. "Let go!" I heard in a loud echo from above. But I refused. Suddenly I found the boots beginning to lower themselves along with the enormous man who wore them. I then let go and backed away from the fireplace. Once again, some ashes fell from the chimney above and I saw the big creature slithering out of the fireplace. When he got out and brushed himself off, he said in an annoyed tone, "What do you want? I have toys to deliver." Again I asked him. "Who are you?" "Come on now, you know who I am," he said to me. "I am Santa Claus." "Your a nut case, messing with my chimney," I answered. "No more a nutcase than you are," he jovially retorted. At that point, I figured I play along with him because I thought the whole situation was absurd and I was probably dreaming. "Don't you have any toys for me?" I asked. "Grown-ups don't get toys," he said. "Why not?" I asked. Then he grew serious and threw his hands up in frustration. "I hate when this happens. You grown-ups catch me like this and start asking a bunch of silly questions. I then give answers, and you don't believe them, because you don't believe in me." I then told him, "You are standing in my living room. That is proof enough for me." He shook his head. "Even if I turned this house into gingerbread, you will wake up tomorrow morning and think that someone pulled a cruel practical joke on you and that this was some ridiculous dream. But I suppose I should start explaining anyway so that I can placate you and get on with my business." He then lumbered toward the recliner opposite my sofa, took off his furry hat and began unbuttoning his furry coat. Out of his coat he pulled out this shiny brown pipe and leaned back on the chair. The chair began to creak as though it were about to collapse, but it bent as far as it could go without breaking. Along with his pipe he pulled out this tiny silk bag that looked like it contained tea leaves. When he opened it, the room immediately filled with the odor of cinammon. He stuffed his pipe with the leaves, pulled out a match and lit the pipe and began to puff away. "So what do you want to know," he said, as though he was willing to answer any question I had for him. "Why are you in my house?" I inquired. "To bring you a present, why else would I be here?" he responded. I looked around and saw no presents, and he saw the look of confusion in my eyes. "Oh no, not those kind of presents. Those are for little kids. You don't need those kinds of presents any more," he said with another puff of his pipe. "Then what kind of present did you bring me?" I asked. "Well, I brought you what you wished for." he replied. Not knowing of anything that I had ever asked for, I prodded him further, "What are you talking about?" "You wanted to be with someone this Christmas, so I thought I would drop by," he said in reply. After he answered my question he moaned, put his feet on the ground one by one, as though he was about to get up. "Well I guess I'll be leaving now," he declared. "No wait!" I exclaimed, "You weren't what I was asking for! I wanted love, companionship, a friend I could spend my life with and share my most inner most feelings. Someone who loves me for who I am, not some huge guy in a big red suit!" Again he looked at me sullenly and responded, "Oh yes, your one of those adults. One that is always looking for love, romance, and everything else. And when I show up you are ungrateful for my presence. When are you going to learn? You expect these things because you think they will bring you a lifetime of happiness. Well I have news for you. I sit on the North Pole twelve months out of the year with my wife, but I assure you that I do not expect any of those things from her. Nor does she expect those things from me. Our happiness comes from bringing happiness to the millions of children in the world. Children that who have no idea what happiness is. Children that are sick, starving, and abused. Children that have no one to love them. Yes, this is what brings us happiness. Everything else is superficial. I do not bring superficial presents to people, so as far as I am concerned, for you my just showing up here will have to do." "But you bring toys," I said. "Oh, toys don't mean anything," he said with a wince on his face. "Do you honestly think toys make these children happy? It is the thought that someone loves them that makes them happy. My goal is for them to feel loved." "But I don't feel loved," I told him. "What?" he said in dismay. "How about your parents, your brothers and sisters, your friends? I know you have friends, don't try to deny it. I see everything. If you cared for them as much as they cared for you, maybe you would feel loved." "I don't understand, I do love them." I pleaded back. "Then show it. Let them know. Spend time with them and show them how you feel. Not only them but with people you do not know. How about the nursing homes? They are much lonelier than you are. "So many times I have come accross young men like you, so caught up in themselves that they don't realize all they have. They think that if they win the heart of a woman that they will find love and live happily ever after. But I assure you, love is not easy. Many claim to have found it, but it slips through their fingers like sand when they are panning for gold. They then put their newfound 'love' aside and preoccupy themselves with the same superficial things they were busy with in the first place. Life passes them by and they die wondering what else they could have done with their lives besides working, getting married, and having a family. All the while they miss so many opportunities to touch the lives of those who really need to be touched." "So you are saying that love and marraige are bad?" I debated with him. With another chuckle he said, "Oh no, they certainly have their place. How else would I have kids to bring toys to?" He then looked at me seriously, "You will not find this love you are looking for until you are happy. And this kind of love by itself does not bring happiness. I am here to show you that for you to find someone who loves you the way you are, then you must do those things that give yourself purpose in life." "Then what is my purpose?" I begged. "That I cannot answer," he said, "Only you can answer that." When he told me this he began to notice that his pipe was no longer producing smoke and he began reaching for his coat. As he turned, out of his shirt pocket, beneath his cherry-red suspenders, he pulled out a shiny gold watch hanging on a thin chain. "Oh, I must be going," he said. I started to beg him to stay, "No please don't go, I have so many more questions for you." With that he gave me a wink, and out puffed a giant cloud of white smoke that filled the room, with his roaring laughter bellowing throughout the house. Suddenly I found myself lying on the sofa again with my head against the arm rest with the blanket at my chin. In front of me the TV set was showing old drag racing footage with the roars of the engines that sounded like the laughter I had been hearing. Shining though my window and beaming through the scanty Christmas tree was the morning sun that blinded me much like that huge puff of smoke. I pressed the off button on my remote control, pulled the blanket over my head, and went back to sleep.
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