It was Christmas Eve. I was seven years old as I stood in front of the big picture window, gazing at the night sky. I watched for Santa’s sleigh and reindeer with Rudolph leading the way. I knew that they would be flying high above the rooftops any minute. My mother, father, two brothers and sister continued to watch television. I turned around, "Santa Claus won’t come to our house if we’re not asleep. WE HAVE TO GO TO BED!" I shouted!
Comforted by my mother’s gentle ways, she walked over and gave me a big hug. "Okay, everyone, time for bed. Santa is on his way," she announced. The lights were turned off as everyone left the room. My mother tucked me into bed. "Goodnight, sleep tight. Santa Claus is coming to town," she said, kissing me on the cheek. I fell fast asleep.
The next morning, I could hardly wait to see what Santa brought for me. Toys surrounded the Christmas tree! My eyes caught sight of the special baby doll, complete with matching wooden high chair and rocking crib. It was just what I had asked Santa to bring me!
That was over forty years ago. Sometimes, on Christmas Eve, I still gaze at the night sky. I see Santa flying high above the rooftops, bringing bundles of dreams to all the children that allow their hearts to believe.
"Goodnight, sleep tight. Santa Claus is coming to town."