I stepped through the door and was met with the comforting warmth the heaters provided. I looked up at my mother as she took my hand and led me through the maze of people merrily walking. I smiled. Giant ornaments hung from the ceiling, rows of bright, sparkling garland draped from every wall, railing, door, and window. The jubilant music echoed throughout, faintly heard behind the mirth of the crowd. We came upon a group crowded around a stage. I looked up beyond the rows of people and strained to see what had everyone so excited. Then I saw him. His rosy cheeks and white hair framed a smiling face. The brightness of his coat drew me in, I couldn’t look away.

“Mama,” I whispered. “Is that him? Is it Santa?” I felt my heartbeat quicken and suddenly everyone seemed to dissolve from my attention.

“Yeah, that’s him,” She placed a hand on my back and ushered me to a line by the stage. We waited for a long time, I’m sure, but not even the soothing hint of cinnamon that drifted about distracted me from the man in red. Finally it was my turn. I stood at the base of the stairs, too scared to climb up.

“Go on, I’ll be right there by you.” Mama said, giving my hand a tight squeeze. I bravely, then excitedly climbed the stairs one by one.

On the stage I walked straight to the man, never taking my eyes off him. I climbed up into his lap and carefully smoothed the wrinkles in my dress. He looked down at me with the kindest eyes I had ever seen.

“Now then, what would you like for Christmas, my dear?” After that, the memory is just too precious to put into words.