Close Encounter Of The Santa Kind

(First published on viewshound.com)


 My mom asked me what I wanted for Christmas earlier today, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Sure, like anybody I harbor a secret list of the things I would like to have, but I don’t truly need any of those things. A thought hit me suddenly.
I’m content with what I have. I have enough food to eat, I have nice clothes to wear, I have a comfortable bed to sleep in, I have a roof over my head, and I have a family who loves me. Why would I want anything else?
My current mood of contentment brings to mind an early memory of mine. My mother and grandmother had brought me to the mall, and as we passed Santa Claus, I just knew I had to see him. I had to tell him what I wanted for Christmas.
Now, even as a young girl, I hadn’t bought into the commercialism that surrounded Christmas, I knew that “old Saint Nick” was a fraud, but still, I just had to see him.
As I stood in line, I trembled with anticipation. I was almost there! I was about to talk to Santa!
In a few minutes, when I sat perched on the old fraud’s lap, he asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I cocked my little four year-old head to one side. I hadn’t considered this. I had no idea what I wanted. I twisted my face with concentration.
Suddenly, it hit me! The proverbial light-bulb went off over my head, and I opened my mouth and spoke, not giving a single thought to the fact that I was about to alienate Santa Claus forever.
“I have everything I need.” I said sweetly. The look on his face was priceless. He glared over at my mom and grandma, as if raising a child to be content with what she had was a cardinal sin punishable by death.
Every year since then, I have felt as though no matter what mall I was in, I was being watched by Santa’s elves. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if my face was on a wanted poster on the North Pole. I even harbor a secret suspicion than my refusal of greed has led to the transition of my name from the nice to the naughty list.
But I’m OK with that. Because no matter what Santa thinks, I’m content.
And that’s the nicest thing I can think of.

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