My Very First Christmas with Santa Claus and the Christmas Miracle

Up on the rooftop, reindeer pause. Out jumps good old Santa Claus

Down thru the chimney with lots of toys. All for the little ones, Christmas joys.

Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn't go! Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn't go! Up on the rooftop. Click, click, click. Down thru the chimney with Good Saint Nick.

A classic carol that showed me the absolute true meaning of Christmas: toys and presents! It says so within its lyrics. But in all seriousness, this song did lead me to my very first Christmas as well as my very first Christmas miracle.

I was in third grade and had just learned about Santa Claus and Christmas songs in class when I returned home that same day.

“Mama! Mama!”

“What now, Jay? What’s going on?”

“Mama, I wanna have Christmas like the white people do! I want Santa Claus to come this year.”

“Ok, Santa will come this year. What do you want for Christmas then?”

“Everyone is getting inline roller blades this year and I want one too.”

“But you have some nice roller skates you hardly use.”

“Those are skates, ohma. No one in third grade uses skates, they all have roller blades now.”

And just like that, I was to have my very first American Christmas and my first visit from Santa. You see, back then, Koreans celebrated Christmas, but it was considered more of a couple holiday then a family one. They didn’t really do Christmas trees or had Santa. So, I didn’t really know what to do during Christmas. They do it now but not when I was young.

The following night, I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom half asleep and drowsy still. I had passed by the dining room table when I did a double take. On top of the table was a box I had never seen before. Being more awake, I turned on the lights and …. It was a brand-new pair of roller blades, the exact ones I told my dad I wanted sitting right there. It wasn’t wrapped or had any cards or anything. It was just sitting there in its box opened. But I didn’t care. I thought it was magical and the best gift ever.

I screamed in delight even though it was 3 in the morning, waking up our neighbors and my parents. My parents got up grumpily, “Hey what’s all the commotion, Jay? Why are you screaming in the middle of the damn night?”

I immediately showed them the box and ran in circles around them, screaming Santa came Santa came Santa came! At that, my parents had to smile but told me to go to bed right away. But I was too excited to go to sleep. I couldn’t wait to show my classmates my first Christmas present.

The following morning, I march right up to a group of my classmates. Dylan and Samantha, and Jared were talking among a small group of my peers. “Guys look, look what I got last night. Santa came to my house and gave me a Christmas gift!”

Dylan, being ever astute, responded, “But it’s not even Christmas yet. It’s in two weeks. Are you sure Santa gave it to you and not your parents?”

“My mom told me it was from Santa. And I found it in the middle of the night on a table. With the box and everything.”

“Wait you found it in the middle of the night and not in the morning? Was there a card from Santa?” Dylan asked?

“Well no.”

“Was it even wrapped?”

“No, but maybe he was too busy to wrap it?”

“Did you leave him milk and cookies out? When did you even have time to write and send him a letter?”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to write a letter or leave cookies out. But my parents said it was from Santa.”

“You stupid baby, that wasn’t Santa. He’s not real. It’s not even close to Christmas, you didn’t write a letter, and it wasn’t even wrapped up like a Christmas gift. How would he know what you wanted or where you lived if you didn’t leave a letter? This proves he’s fake.”

At this, everyone around began to laugh at me. I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes, feeling so ashamed and embarrassed. So, I did the only thing a well-adjusted, rational third grader could do. I punched Dylan in the nose.

Of course, I was sent immediately to the principal’s office where they contacted my grandma Ruth to come pick me up. Now Grandma Ruth wasn’t my biological grandmother, she was a Caucasian next-door neighbor who adopted my and my family and helped us navigate American culture or handle school matters since my family had limited English proficiency. But for all purposes, she was part of the family.

When she arrived, she walked me to the car, and as soon as the doors were shut, she looked over to me and asked what happened. Through a teary voice and eyes, I recounted the story of how I showed Dylan and some classmates my gift from Santa and they told me I was a stupid baby and that Santa is fake.

Grandma Ruth bristled and said, “Now that irks me when people say that hogwash. That rumor has been going on for centuries now. You figure people would stop that nonsense.”

“You mean he’s real, Grandma Ruth?”

“Of course, he is. In fact, he told me that in order to make up for punching your classmate, we need to help him out, so you won’t be on his naughty list for when Christmas comes. Come on.”

We ended up at the mall where Grandma Ruth pulled out a twenty bill. She told me, “Now take this money and you’re going to find a gift for someone who needs a Christmas cheer. We’ll then deliver in lieu of Santa Christmas eve, so he doesn’t have to work so hard at least for one house.”

I enter the mall with my grandma following behind. I had never been in charge of shopping before and was a bit overwhelmed. Normally I would just follow my mom from store to store while she got what we needed. I looked around and started trying to think of people’s faces and names and what they would like. I then remembered Dylan’s face and how he looked with a bloody nose after I had punched him. Then I remember his thin, ratty blue hoodie he wore to school everyday and how he wore the same jacket and same old shoes to school every single day. It seemed like he would be cold with such a thin jacket in December, but he never wore anything else. The zipper was broken, so he couldn’t even close it up. I knew what I wanted to buy then.

I went to the boys’ section and picked out a bright red, warm hoodie that I thought Dylan would like. I went up to the cash register and handed the cashier the jacket and the twenty. She looks at me and asked how old I am. I tell her I am seven years old. She asks how come I’m by myself. I tell her my grandma’s waiting outside and she gave me some money to buy a gift for someone who needs one and I thought of my classmate who always wear the same jacket every day even though the zipper’s broken. She scans the jacket, puts in a bag, and doesn’t hand me any change back but wishes me a Merry Christmas. I didn’t really know how much things cost since I never handled money before, but I have always seen my mom get change back. I forget about it and hand the receipt to my grandma, who takes one look at it, then at the cashier, and then puts the receipt in her bag.

Christmas Eve arrives, Grandma Ruth comes over late evening, explains to my parents that she’s going to take me on a ride to see the Christmas lights and we would be back before eight. We found Dylan’s address in the school directory, so we drive over there to a very old mobile trailer. We put the wrapped present and card from “Santa” on the door step and ring the doorbell and hightail it to the car. From the car, we see Dylan’s mom open the door, see the present, and bring it inside. We can hear Dylan’s shout of enjoyment from inside a few minutes later and then we leave.

After winter break ends, I see Dylan again wearing his bright red hoodie with a big grin on his face. Decades after, after Grandma Ruth passed away, I found an old receipt in her receipt book. While I glanced through it I saw one page where it says Jaybecomes Santa’s helper. The receipt was for a red jacket that cost almost $30. It goes to show you that a little kindness comes back to you in unexpected ways.