A Christmas Memory

         A little bit of light plays on the corner walls above my bed. It's been darker. That light is a reflection. In my memory, I can interject the reason of an adult. At the age of eight, I called it moonlight. But today, I know that all light in the heavens is sunlight reflected at night by other heavenly bodies.

         The reflected light held no interest for me. It was just a focal point for a small soul whose eyes could not shut. And the empty walls held no stimulation for a mind that could not sleep. And regret filled my being. The situation, it seemed, was entirely out of my control. My other brothers and sister did not share this lonely hour with me. And Mom and Dad never shared the after bedtime hours. They always were able to sleep at the end of their day.

         Any other night would not have been problematic. But this night held its own risks. A wind had come up. Well, at least that added a touch of drama now, didn't it? Whispers of snowy pellets brushed the glass of windows like a brush against a snare drum. It was percussion with no real reason.

         There was absolutely no way I could know the exact hour he would arrive. I tried to close my eyes just in case he peeked inside the window. That would be so sad. Three hundred and sixty four days wasted being good, all to be ruined on one restless Christmas Eve.

         Then it happened. Crash!

         The loudest noise I had ever heard shook the house. Oh, great! Here comes Santa Claus, and what do we have here? Sweetly sleeping children -- Mark, Niles, Linda, and Eric. Their reward was assured. Even with the racket, they hadn't stirred. How is it possible, or even fair, that one little eight year old would serve as the sole sentinel on such a crucial night?

         Logic dictated that at the very least, I could pretend to be asleep. Blankets over the head would hide the obvious. Minutes passed. I kept waiting for the sleigh to leave. I heard no take off. But, I also heard no footsteps. How excruciating! And very sad.

         At last, I could wait no longer. Tiptoeing to the dark front room, I looked for the signs:

         The Vienna sausages were gone!  Good sign!

         Part of the milk was drunk!  Great!

         With a quick trot to the tree, I was reassured. Unwrapped toys (Wrapped packages were labeled from family members. Santa left gifts unwrapped. I loved that!!) -- they were everywhere! It worked. It worked! I ran back to bed reassured that Santa had found all acceptable.

         In a flash, I was snoring. Christmas morning for Laura was just a nap away.

Word Count: 449