Lindy
Lindy looked up at her mother when she finished reading the letter. “As I recall, I got my wish that year.”
“Yes, you did,” her mother said. “And you colored until your fingers were every shade of the rainbow.”
“What I remember is Chad grabbing my masterpiece and shoving it into his mouth before anyone could stop him.”
Memories rolled past her like scenes on a silent movie screen. She vividly remembered Billy Kincade and how much she disliked him. He’d been a year or two ahead of her in school. Not a day passed when he didn’t find some way to torment her. Once he even stole her homework. At recess, he made a point of chasing her. To her, he was the meanest boy in school.
Lindy didn’t remember writing Santa about him. At the mention of his name, thoughts of Billy Kincade were fresh in her mind.
“Whatever happened to Billy?” her mother asked.
Lindy didn’t have a clue. “I don’t remember him beyond second grade. He must have transferred to another school.” As far as she was concerned, good riddance. She hadn’t thought about him since grade school.
“I remember you complained about him,” her mother recalled. “I ended up going to the school principal to find out what the deal was.”
“You did?” Maybe that was the reason Billy had transferred schools, not that she cared. Lindy was simply happy to have him out of her life.
“Dad came with me and spoke to Billy privately. Afterward, your father said he felt the reason Billy paid you all that attention was because he had a crush on you.”
“If that’s true, then he had a curious way of showing it.”
“Boys are difficult to understand. It was likely something happening in his home life. Maybe he was attracted to you and didn’t know how to show it.”
“Save me from boys who have a crush on me, then,” Lindy said, thinking of Brian. Nothing had changed through the years, as far as she could tell.
One last letter remained. Lindy was eight at the time.
Dear Santa,
My friend Peggy has a bicycle with tassels and a basket with a flower in the front. Can you bring me one just like hers?
Thank you.
Lindy
Her handwriting had greatly improved by then, she noticed. A smile was hard to hold back as she set aside the letter.
“What’s so funny?” her mother asked.
“By eight, I knew Santa was all fun. I wrote that letter so you and Dad knew what I really wanted for Christmas.”
“And you got your wish, didn’t you?”
“I did, and I loved that bike. Peggy and I rode all over the neighborhood on our twin bikes.”
Her mother focused her attention on Lindy. “Have you noticed a pattern here?” she asked, glancing down at the letters.
Lindy’s eyes followed her mother’s. “Well, other than Santa answering my Christmas wishes, not really.” She certainly didn’t see anything of significance. While interesting and fun to review, these were nothing more than childish letters.
“Look again,” her mother advised.
Lindy glanced down at the four letters in front of her. “What am I supposed to be looking for?” she asked.
“You don’t see it, do you?”
Obviously, she didn’t.
“When I read your letters,” her mother continued, “I noticed nearly everything you asked Santa to bring you, he did. Not always in the way you wanted, but in a way that was better.”
Looking over her scribbles, Lindy frowned. “Mom, come on. You and Dad got me all the gifts I wanted.”
“To be fair, yes, but remember, you wanted a dad, and Santa sent Phil to our front door on Christmas Day.”
“True enough.” She couldn’t deny it. She’d gotten the daddy she’d asked for, along with a brother. And Billy Kincade had disappeared after she told Santa he deserved coal for Christmas. Plus, she got her own bicycle, the one with pink tassels on the handlebars. She’d ridden it into the ground. While she might not have gotten the sister she requested, she willingly forgave Santa. What she did get was a friend her own age in Peggy.
“You know what I think?” her mother said.
“My guess is that you’re going to tell me.”
“I think you need to write Santa another letter.”
“What? Come on, Mom, don’t you think I’m a bit old to believe in Santa Claus?”
Her mother shook her head. “The word you need to seriously consider is believe.”
Her words gave Lindy pause. She’d been in an emotional rut for so long, it was hard to look at the positive in any situation. Reading those old letters had been fun and they reminded her that at one time she had believed with all her heart. She’d looked forward to each Christmas with happy anticipation, knowing her wishes would be granted.