I Believe In Santa

[Frederick]

The Mace's were a hardworking family who lived on the ground floor of a block of council flats on an estate in Islington, North London. They had two children, Susan, who was fifteeen, and Simon, aged seven. Few luxuries could be found in their sparsely furnished accomodation, and most of the carpets were threadbare. Their most prized possession was an old Ford Escort, which took up much of Arthur's time in an effort to keep it running. He couldn't really afford a car, but by cutting out smoking and drinking he somehow managed to raise enough money to pay for the tax and insurance. Their one treat was a once weekly drive into the Essex countrysideand to have a picnic on the side of the road, watching the farmers going about their work. Occasionally they'd vary the routine and drive instead to the local stables where they'd feed the horses. They were well known, and regular commercial drivers would sometimes toot as they drove by. As a surprise birthday present, Simon was once actually driven round the field on a tractor. Everybody loved these trips out, especially Simon.

Poor Simon. Fate had dealt a bitter blow to the family when Simon, four at the time, had slipped out unnoticedand had wandered into the busy street while his mother was paying the milkman. The screech of brakes didn't cause her anyundue alarm, as it was a noisy neighbourhood. Suddenly as the crowds gathered, she realised. Her legs almost gave way as she ran, screaming hysterically to his side. She kept screaming his name in an attempt to get a reaction. Shock, terror, blind panic all merged into one as people came running from all directions. The ambulance arrived within ten minutes.

After several hours a doctor led Arthur, Mary and Susan into a private room. There, in a controlled voice, he informed them that Simon had no feelings from his waist down. All three wept bitterly as the reality of the situation began to take effect. The dreadful news affected the whole neighbourhood. Everybody did all they could to ease the situation, and nothing was too much bother if any of them wanted anything. They vowed then that their every would be made keeping Simon happy, but under no circumstances would they spoil him. At first Simon couldn't understand why he couldn't walk, and he'd have screaming sessions, throwing tantrums. These sessions would put the rest of the household under an intolerable strain, where they themselves wouldn't speak to one another for hours, sometimes days. The strain was getting everybody down.

Their attitudes to his disability varied. Mary, a devout Christian, saw it as a challenge. She would throw herself into charity work at the local church, which also doubled for the community centre. Susan, once surrounded by friends, and boyfriends galore, no longer went out except to keep her mother company, and also to attend the occasional church service. She spent most of her time at home, playing endless board games in an attempt to keep Simon's mind occuped. Arthur remained bitter, blaming God for everything. Because of his built in resentment towards the church, religion ws never discussed.

Gradually though, they came to terms with the situation, and Simon attended a special school nearby. He soon adapted to his new environment, and was amongst the brightest in his group. Mary was fortunate in getting a job serving meals in the school, so she was able to keep an eye on things. Nobody made any undue fuss of him though, and if he was cheeky or did wrong, he was admonished accordingly.

It was ten days to go before yet another Christmas was upon them, and with it, all the hustle and bustle. Although a confirmed atheist, Arhtur nevertheless enjoyed the festive season. It was such a special time of the year, when greetings cards instead of bills seemed to come through the door. A turkey was out of the question of course, but they'd enjoy themselves just as much with a chicken, and perhaps a few bottles of cheap wine. In his tidiest spider-like scrawl, Simon wrote down all the things that he would like Santa to get him, and addressed to to Mr. Santa Claus, Toytown, North Pole. Arthur then wheeled him round to the post box and lifted him up to the right height so he could post it hiimself.

"Daddy," an excited high-pitched voice asked, "do you think Santa will get me all the things I've asked for?"

"Well," replied Arthur, lowering his glases in mock severity. "that depends. Have you been a good boy, and have you been saying your prayers every night? Because there's a little Dicky bird that sits on a tree outside your window, and tells Santa every time you're naughty, and Santa doesn't like naughty boys, does he?" He then smiled and gave his son a reassuring kiss before lowering him back into his chair and wheeling him back home.

"Dear God," He said under his breath. "If only there was a Santa.

The following morning Susan picked up what she assumed to be just another Christmas card. She opened it and stood, open-mouthed as she read the words. Her eyes lit up as she throw her arms round Arthur, giving him a kiss.

"Oh, thank you Dad - you're the best Dad in the world!" She laughed. "I can't wait!"

"Who's it from, Sue?" Asked Mary.

"Ask Santa." She replied, still hugging Arthur. She held up the card and read the words: To Arthur, Mary and family - God bless you this Christmas, love from Santa. Attached were four front-row tickets to see Cinderella-on-ice at Wembley on the twenty-third, just before Christmas. Arthur immediately released Susan's grip. The look on his face told her he was not playing around. He kept looking at the unfamiliar handwriting and shook his head. To make mattters even more confusing it bore a South London postmark, and none of them know anybody from that area. He glanced across to Mary, whose face was as blank as his.

"Daddy!" Shrieked Simon. "It's from Santa - look! Love from Santa. It's from Santa. Daddy, you do believe in Santa, don't you?

Arthur gasped in mock horror. "Goodness me, what a question - OF COURSE I BELIEVE IN SANTA!"

Susan laughed. Nobody could think or talk of anything else, and all wondered what was in store for them, as none of them had been to an ice show in their lives.

The twenty-third finally arrived. It was to be an evening none of them would forget. Indeed, it was to be an evening that would change all of their lives forever. After loosing the way a couple of times, they arrived about twenty minutes before the start of the show. All sat enthralled at the ice spectacular. During the intermission there was a clown act that made everybody laugh. Finally, with the show over, Arthur felt a surge of patriotism as he and Mary raised Simon to a standing position as theNational Anthem was played to mark the end of the evening.. They waited until most people had gone before making their way to the exit. Then disaster struck. Arthur slipped as he stood on an empty can of Coke. He fell heavily and cried out in anguish as Simon slipped from his grip ans and went rollinmg down towards the front row.

"Oh God, please no! Don't let my baby die!" was all she could scream over and over again. She was hysterical. Susan, too, was crying, but more out of sympathy for her mother for, like Arthur, she was severely traumatised. Worst affected was Arthur, who blamed himself for not seeing the can. He lay staring up at a blank ceiling hour after hour, his mind tortured by the events leading up to what happened.

"Why, why, why?" was all he could ask.

Susan gripped Simon's hand, too frightened to close her eyes as she prayed for a miracle, lest he slip away from her. She stared intently into his face, willing him with all she had for him to open his eyes. There was great excitement all round when he finally did open them, but it was only for a few seconds, and he showed no signs of recognising anybody. Christmas came and went. The chicken went uncooked. Presents remained unopened. Everybody took turns as a round the clock vigil was kept on him.

Suddenly one morning Simon opened his eyes wide.

"Where's my Mummy - I want my Mummy!" He demanded in a most boorish manner. Mary was there in an instant. She threw her arms around him and wept with joy. He looked intently into her face, smiled, and then kissed her.

"Mummy, don't cry. The doctor tells me I'm going to be alright. He told me I'd grow up big and strong." Blinded by her own tears, all she could do was nod.

"The doctor?" Enquired Arthur, confused. He glanced across at a doctor with a white coat, who smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"The boy's been here all the time, you know that."

"Not that doctor, the OTHER doctor, the wone with the beard and long straggly hair."

"Ah, THAT doctor." Replied another doctor, taking his blood pressure, winking at Mary. "Dream." He mouthed.

"Well this is a dream come true. You're with us and that's all we care about." Said Mary, trying to control her emotions.

"Mummy, it wasn't a dream!" His outburst shocked everybody. "He sat talking to me, and told me all different bible stories. And then he told me he was going to put me in a big machine that would make me better. And er, oh yes. And then...and then he asked me to give him a big kiss, 'cause it was his birthday. It was a horrible big machine Mummy. I'm afraid I wasn't very brave at all. I started crying and asked for you, but he told me you weren't allowed to see me. And then he just smiled and put his hands over my eyes and told me to go to sleep."

"And you did - and now you're back with me, and that's all that mattters, darling."

Screaming in rage, Simon pulled back the covers.

"Mummy, why don't you listen to me - LOOK!" Before anybody had time to react, he'd staggered fifteen feet to the window before collapsing, and bursting into tears. The highly emotional scene brought people in from all parts of the hospital.

It was to be the start of several more weeks in hospital as further tests and a reverse colostomy had to be carried out. He had to learn to walk all over again, gradually strengthening weak ligaments and muscles. Progress was painfully slow, but progress it was.

As they passed a church on the way back from visiting him one day, Mary said that she wanted to go inside.

"Sure, no problem. I'll see you both back at the flat."

"Dad, please. Just this once. Pleaded Susan.

Arthur smiled and shook his head. "It's no good Sue. I haven't been inside a church since I was a baby and besides, I'd have no idea what to say."

"Pleeeeese Dad, it'll come." She pleaded, pulling his arm. More out of embarrassment at having people stare at them, he relented.

Once inside the church, no words were necessary. He looked up at a wooden cross by the altar and, sinking to his knees in one of the pews, cupped his face in his hands and wept like he had never done before.



"...Where two or more are gathered together in my name, I am there in the midst of them." (Matthew cpt 18 v20)

[booradley]

*got confused...waiting for the punch line*

[lady cop]

really nice story, reminds me of another i can't recall right now. thanks.

[Frederick]

booradley wrote: *got confused...waiting for the punch line*


Christmas miracle - Christ the healer, projected into the mind of a seven year old boy as he lies in a coma. Mary and Susan praying for a miracle. The full biblical quotation is as follows:

"Again I say unto you that if two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them by my Father which is in heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." Matthew cpt 18 v 19 - 20 King James version. Incidentally, this passage is also used in the laying of the hands when people are sick.