Dear Department Store Santa,
I could just kiss you!
Even though it was late and your shift was almost over, when my kids walked in the door you opened your arms, smiled wide, and said, "My babies!"
You even managed an eye-twinkle.
And when a ketchup covered Ellerie hugged you fiercely and declared, "I love you!", you hugged her right back with the same intensity . . . even though you quite probably became covered in ketchup too.
But my favorite part of the evening was when you noticed that my oldest, Abbie, was hanging back, standing in the shadows, away from you. Clearly, she is in that in-between stage this year. She knows the truth but she still wants to believe. So, when you motioned for her to come closer, and then smiled and called her by her name, her eyes became wide with wonder. She couldn't hide her smile despite the fact that she was trying to figure out how you, a department store Santa, could have possibly known her name.
Forget about the fact that she was wearing her cheerleader sweatshirt with Abbie embroidered on the pocket, Santa.
What you did?
That was true Christmas magic.
And as for me, Santa?
I will always believe.