When Santa Lived Just Next Door

There was a time that it was just growing up. Fights with brother, taking the dog out to use the grass, or being taken out by the 120 pound dog-a-beast as it bolted from the door with its leash wrapped around my wrist. Or finding that every day that went by, I could do something to something or someone that would make my mother go a little bit nuts.

The things of the day weren't so great, I mean they were all right with me, but our family lived a little below the mean, but there was lots of room to play in the back yard, there were ample meals, though repetitive in style and fashion, but Daddy loved Momma and the reciprocal feelings appeared to be the same, so what did I have to complain about?

Well it was Santa. Mr. Claus. He lived next door to us, and it was he, himself. He drove a little red Dodge pick-up that said "Santa is Watching" in black letters in the back of the truck. He grew a garden, all summer, kept meticulous care of it, and shared with others the proceeds. He kept his lawn mowed, which influenced others to keep their lawns mowed. And getting to around Christmas, he would calmly walk out of his garage door, and walk straight to his pickup and this is what I would see:

His big red hat was made to come up to a tight little ball, and the ball was white as was the brim around the front. He wore a large red coat, with white fur down the middle, the top and the sides. He had a big (yes it was big) black belt that wrapped him front to back. He had red britches that went to just below his knees, that were tucked in to large black boots with white fur around the top. His face was covered with the natural white white beard and mustache, and he had a pair of silver wire framed glasses. All this plus the red bag that looked like a grand pillow case.

I've kept quiet. I had seen him at a couple places in town, down at the candy store, up at the museum where we got our pictures made, and on and on it goes.

You know what? He always comes at Christmas time, at least that's what one of my gifts says on it. My brother's too. "From Santa Claus" .

At least I'll keep it quiet, some kids never find him.

Ralph Peck

Photo by Ralph Peck

Claremore, Oklahoma