![](https://growinguponcolumbusstreet.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/claus-9.jpg?w=474)
Stealthy. Like a cat. Sitting in the corner. The little girl sat in the arm chair facing the Christmas tree. The lights blinked like they would all night. She took a sip of Coca Cola. She knew one of the ingredients was caffeine.
She needed to stay awake.
She did something she had been forbidden to do. She took the pot holder that sat on the small stack of logs. She grabbed the fireplace shield and she pulled it back. She added another log to the fire.
If she was going to be staring at the fire all night it might as well be a good one.
She put on her sun glasses. The ones that made her look like James Bond. 007. That James Bond. She needed to look intriguing and slightly dangerous.
She was on a mission.
She waited hours while the house slept. Mommy and Daddy were sleeping in their room. Daddy’s snores made the curtains move. The golden cat lie across her lap. She heard the bed springs squeak above her head. Both of her brothers snored along with her father.
One instant he wasn’t there. Then, the next he was.
Santa. Santa with his sack.
The little girl didn’t move a muscle. She watched Santa deposit things down the woolen stockings. He bent to place packages under the tree. A train track appeared with a locomotive and a caboose. A big box leaned against the wall. It contained another set of tracks and race cars.
Santa snapped his fingers and a black lacquered child sized rocking chair appeared. And, a doll carriage. The doll of the little girl’s dreams sat propped inside the carriage. Warm and cozy wrapped in a pink and white baby blanket.
Santa stood and surveyed the scene. He felt satisfied. He went to put a finger aside of his nose.
“Cookie, Santa?” asked the little girl that had stayed silent and still just a few feet away from all of this holiday action.
Santa jumped about a foot when he noticed the little girl .
She held out a plate of cookies.
Santa regained his composure. He chuckled a quiet ho ho ho. He took a cookie off of the plate and took a big bite.
“Well, look at you! Awake in the middle of the night! This doesn’t happen very often. I’m thinking I even know your name.” Santa said in Santa fashion.
“I’m not here for small talk.” said the little girl.
That stopped Santa mid cookie bite.
“You’re not! Ho ho ho. The sunglasses are a nice touch, little girl. A bit of intrigue. Are we practicing to be a spy?” he chuckled even though he wasn’t finding any of this all that funny.
“I guess the glasses are my way of saying I mean business.” said the little girl. “Sit!”
Santa sat in the chair directly opposite of her.
“And, what business do you want to talk about?” Santa asked.
Taking the wishes of children seriously is really Santa’s one and only business after all.
“The business of children. The business of Christmas.” said the little girl. She slipped her glasses off and stared him in the beard. Yes, she was right. His beard actually had glitter in it just like the Christmas cards.
“Go on. We need to make it quick though. Blitzen will be at that door in a few minutes looking for me.” Santa explained.
“Year after year you let me down.” said the little girl as the golden cat jumped off of her lap with a big yawn.
“Do I?” Santa asked in earnest. “I get your letters. I read them. I make notes. Dolls. Miniature tea pots and crayons. I don’t think you have anything to complain about, my dear.”
“Oh, but I do.” the little girl said as she leaned forward and stared Santa straight in the eye.
“My Mommy and Daddy used to be little children back in the day. They wrote letters to Santa. They wrote during The Great Depression. They wanted trains and dolls and all sorts of wonderful toys only made by Santa. They got mittens. They got a few walnuts and oranges in their stockings and they were happy. They were trained not to be spoiled. They were conditioned not to expect anything.” whispered the little girl in a deadly serious tone.
“You should have done better!” she ended.
“My mommy and Daddy have gray in their hair now. But, when they play with me…….when they color with me………..when they throw snowballs with me………..when they sing me songs and read me stories……….I see the little children they used to be.” the little girl said as she got up and shook herself off.
She headed towards the stairs and her bed.
“Fix it!” she demanded. “If you need a trade? Take the rocking chair. Take the doll carriage. Take the doll if you must. But, you need to fix this.”
“Tonight!”
The little girl set her spy sunglasses on her night stand. She slid under her quilt. She stroked her legs up and down and waved her arms to warm up the sheets. She shut her eyes. She wished for Christmas morning.
She heard the reindeer and sleigh lift off of the roof.
Well, she had done her best she thought as her eyes slid shut.
Christmas morning was gray. Snow cascaded past the picture window. The little girl awoke to her brother’s voices exclaiming over trains and locomotives. She heard her parent’s tired moans when her feet hit the bottom stair.
The embers in the fireplace still glowed. The tree still twinkled in the corner. But, the room was a little more crowded than it was the night before.
The little girl sat on the floor with her cat in her lap.
She smiled as her Daddy came across the big red Craftsman tool box that sat under the table. He opened it and it was full of every tool a weekend carpenter might ever need. Her mother ran her hands over a beautiful table with a sewing machine that lifted up. Spools of thread in every color were in a drawer. Cascades of fabric spilled from the other drawer.
The rocking chair………and the doll carriage and doll were still in their places. Just like the last time the little girl had seen them.
No trade has been necessary.
Santa had finally fixed it.