This photo of my sister and me with “Santa Claus” always evokes an odd mix of both horror and amusement.  At the time of the event – maybe circa 1969 – we were terrified by this masked stranger who entered our home and took us upon his knees.  Okay, maybe horror and terror go a bit too far.  As I scrutinize the image, I think my wide eyes and my finger in my mouth definitely portray some sense of “What in the figgy pudding is going on here?” My expressionless sister, on the other hand, seems nonplussed. If you’re not familiar with “nonplussed,” it’s a great word and perfectly fits the occasion – “surprised and confused so much that they are unsure how to react.”  Only sometime later were we informed that the person underneath the costume was our great uncle, and today, we are (somewhat) entertained by the memory.

This brings to mind a funny story my Grandfather Harmon once told me.  He said years ago, there was a family living way back in the sticks, and they had always been too poor to buy Christmas presents.  In fact, their son had never even heard of Santa Claus. After some passage of time, the parents made financial progress to the point that they could finally afford gifts, and they told their son that Santa Claus would be coming to see him.  By now, the boy was pretty good-sized and getting some years on him, and because he had no prior familiarity with this mysterious visitor, it caused him no small amount of angst.  Finally, unable to contain his concern, he told his parents he knew Santa would scare the “H-E-double hockey sticks” out of him, and he wished he would just come on and get it over with!

May you have a very Merry, non-traumatic, Christmas!