Thank you for your story, Denver. I liked it. Here in Holland we have another tradition: Sinterklaas. Of course it's the same, but on another date, the evening of 5 december. The story I will tell you some day. Sinterklaas is named after Saint Nicolas, a roman catholic saint whose patron day is on the 6th of december.
Guus Leufkens
::where is the photo. ....?
Hey Fischer, If you see him remind him.
I shall Denver!! Me and Santa have a cool relationship!! Merry Christmas Eve to you and your family! Enjoy the meal!
i remember that tune. Good one.
Wow. That is thin, healthy Santa!
great story Denver! 66 years is a long time!
I was walking through the Downtown Plaza. Just wondering around after looking at the clothes washer I was going to buy.
As I walked by the Santa Booth. This guy smiled at me and sort of waved at me and started to walk toward me. I smiled and waved back. I tried my best to recognize him.
In my head were Bowling faces, soccer faces, chess faces, former work related faces flashing through my mind.
Not a clue to who it could be. He had a full grey beard not quite white, a nice smile and bright glistening eyes without any glasses.
Oh yeah, he was wearing red pajamas with black boots and a black belt an white gloves.
He put his hand out to me and I reluctantly reached out to shake it, and I said, "I'm sorry I just don't recognize who you are."
"That's OK. I'm Santa Claus," he says with a grin.
"Oh . . . Oh yeah. But that isn't quite what I meant."
"That's OK, so how are you?"
"I'm fine. How are you?" Before he could speak I said, "Wait a minute. Since you are Santa I have a question to ask you. Where is the Red Radio Flyer Wagon you promised me."
"I promised you a wagon? It must have slipped my mind."
"Sure, you said you would bring it to me on Christmas of 1946. It was a Red Flyer, I waited and waited but you must have forgotten."
"Well It must have slipped up in the cracks. I just can't promise you another one now, there are to many delays."
"Well nice to have met you again Santa. Merry
Christmas to you. Bye."
"Merry Christmas to you too."
We shook hands again and each went on our merry way.
In my Autobiography files I have this story that I wrote about the wagon in 1996. That was twent six years ago.
I just changed the dates to update it hope you like it.
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Where the Heck Is My Red Wagon?
by
Denver
Memoir
I was nine years old in nineteen forty six. That was the year, I was introduced to Santa Claus. The fat man dressed in red pajamas, a white beard, a black belt and boots.
In El Salvador Jesus brought you one present.
My mom and sister took my brother Carlos and me by bus, to the Emporium on Market Street in San Francisco.
We went to the fifth floor. There were many kids waiting in line, we joined them and waited to talk to this man.
We were dressed very nicely. In El Salvador we were always presentable, anytime we went anywhere. We wore a gabardine suit and tie, on Sundays and special occasion's.
My mom said, "Tell Santa what you want for a Christmas present and he will bring it if you have been good."
In El Salvador we only got one present at Christmas time. We would have to hunt for our present all through the house. If we were lucky, we would find the present on our bed on Christmas day. If you didn't like the present you received, it could be placed on top of your bed and you had to stay away for several hours and bingo you got another present.
When I was seven, I got a box of gray lead soldiers. I didn't like them since they didn't do anything. I put it on top of my bed, and stayed away. Bingo, I didn'tget anything that year.
"Mom, I did what you told me to do. Jesus didn't bring me another present."
My mom said, "Son you didn't get another present because you didn't appreciate what Jesus had brought especially for you."
When we were packing to come to the U.S.A. I found the lead soldiers still in the same box. I didn't get to keep them.
Finally after waiting quite a long time, it was my turn to speak with Santa.
Santa's helper said to me, "Go on up to him, sit on his lap.
I'll tell you when to stand so we can take your picture."
I sat on his lap and Santa asked,
"What would you like for Christmas?"
"A red wagon," I answered.
"What else, do you want?"
"Nothing else, Santa."
"That"s all you want?"
"Yes. We are only allowed one present. I want the
red wagon with the four large wheels and the black handle to pull. I think it's called "The Red Flyer."
"Are you sure you don't want anything else?"
"Nope. Just the wagon."
"Why do you want just that?"
"So I can carry the groceries for my mom when she shops. Also to earn money carrying people's food from the store, to their homes."
"You are a nice boy to try and help your mom. I promise to do my very best to bring it to you," Santa said.
I got of his lap and stood. Then the photograph
was taken of Santa and me for my mom.
Well, that 1946 Christmas came and went. I didn't get the red wagon. I don't remember what I got as a present but I probably liked.
The following year I didn't get it either. Every year
I would remind Santa every time I saw him. I still
didn't get it. . . Nor the next year. Nor . . . etc . . . etc . . .
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It's been seventy six years since that happened. I guess he has forgotten it by now. He needs a palm pilot or a cell phone, so he can remember every promise he makes.
Christmas is coming again. Maybe I'll send him an text message. If any of you happen to run into or see this fat man in red pajamas, ask him for me.
"Where the heck is Denver's red wagon?"
I have the photo of us together as proof. So I know what he looks like. Maybe I should make a "Wanted Poster."
"What do you expect from an old, fat, unshaven man dressed in red pajamas, that talks to kids, sitting on his lap?
Hmmmmm . . .
Oh yes . . . Merry Christmas to you!
RICH