Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Santa Claus

When I was about 8 almost 9 those nasty rumors started going around school, you know the ones that claimed there wasn’t a Santa Claus. It hit me really hard, because I knew that if there wasn’t, I wouldn’t get any presents. I lived in foster care, and spent my Christmases at my Grandmothers, and she couldn’t afford any presents, and my Dad never gave me any presents, so if Santa didn’t give them, there wouldn’t be any. And that year I only wanted one thing, and it was a biggie… I wanted a new bike, a two wheeler.

Well I did the obligatory visit with Santa when my Grandmother took me to the electric company to get my picture taken with him, something she tried to do every year. I remember looking at him very very closely. He sure looked real to me. His beard was real, and his hair was certainly real, I could see it going into his head…. I’m sure this man understood my predicament. He was very nice, and he was as real as I could ask for. I gave him my one request as quietly as I could, so no one else could hear me. Then on a whim I added something else, a puppy. I distinctly remember him laughing at me, and saying he didn’t think he could bring me a real puppy, but he’d do his best on that other item. (And that is exactly how he put it, “that other item”)

Christmas morning I got up, and had to do the whole routine before we could see what was under the tree. There were sliding doors into the living room, and the ONLY time they were closed was Christmas morning… that morning was no different. I struggled through my Christmas breakfast, cleared the table, flew upstairs to get dressed, and then back down again to wait for those doors to open. And there it was… a new two wheel bike. And in the basket attached to the front handle bars was a stuffed puppy.

Allow me to say to this day I believe in Santa Claus, and I will take that belief to my grave.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Internet friends

I recently lost a dear friend, an internet friend…but a friend none the less. What did I know about her…. a lot. I know she was a beginner quilter who had a lot of enthusiasm. I know she was a wife who sat by her husband’s side as he passed away of lung cancer. I know she was a mother, and just recently became a grandmother as well. And I know she was a very caring person.

Why do some people think that just because that person is an internet friend, he/she isn’t a “real” friend? After all, several of the closest friends I have are internet friends. Debbie, my retreat roommate, terrific helper, listener of all my woes and so much more can hardly be called an internet friend, yet that is where we met. Marge who I have my morning coffee with more often than my husband is an internet friend. Denny, Candy, and so many more ladies are internet friends, and I can’t imagine being without them.

I for one will never criticize anyone for having an internet friend… those can be the best friends of all. They don’t judge you for how you look, or where you live, or what you drive. You like you for you, or at least who you are on the internet. Be true to yourself, and they will be true to you. And they will be true friends.