A VISIT FROM SANTA CLAUS

    It was Christmas Eve, and Rachel was having her annual Christmas party.

    "Grandma, you shouldn't have a fire in the fireplace!" cried Dante.

    "Whyever not, Darling? " said Rachel, "It makes the room look nice and cheerful."

    "But, if there's a fire, how can Santa Claus get down the chimney?"

    "Oh!  I didn't think of that!" said Rachel.

    "Santa won't be here for hours yet." said Carl, "We shall make sure that the fire is out before we go to bed.  By the time Santa arrives, the ashes will be cold.  Will that content you, My Heart?"

    "Yes, Grandpa."  Dante had a sudden thought:  "How does Santa get into peoples' houses if they don't have a fireplace?"

    "Perhaps he enters through the keyhole." said Carl, "Everyone has one of those."

    Dante yawned.

    "Uh-oh, time you were in bed!" said Paulina, "Let's get you home, and you can put out the milk and cookies for Santa."

    "Milk and cookies?  " said Rachel. "When I was a little girl, I always left Santa a ham sandwich and a thermos of hot chocolate.  Plus nine carrots."

    "Why carrots?" said Jake.

    "For the reindeer." said Rachel.

    "Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, " Carl counted them off on his fingers, "Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen -"

    "And Rudolf!" said Dante.

    As the last of the party guests said goodnight, Carl said, "Well, Rachel, shall I heat the hot chocolate while you make the sandwich, or vice versa?"

    "Us?" said Rachel.

    "We can scarcely ask Helen.  She is taking a well-deserved rest between preparing the buffet for the party, and cooking Christmas dinner."

    "You really want to do this?"

    "We may as well get the family tradition established before the Grubs get any older."

    "You are totally demented, but that's why I love you so!"

*********

    Carl opened his eyes and looked at the clock.  3 a.m.  He knew from experience that when he came totally awake in the middle of the night, it would be two hours before he got drowsy.  There was no point in lying in bed, pleasant though it might be to feel Rachel's body pressed against his own.

    Carl put on his robe and slippers, and headed downstairs.  This was his private time, to read, to surf the internet, or just to think.

    The living room was lit only by the lights on the Christmas tree, but that was enough to show the man sitting in the most comfortable chair, sipping hot chocolate.

    Carl looked him over:  white beard, red suit, black boots.

    "Carl," he said, "Have you been naughty, or nice?"  He took another sip of his drink.  "That hits the spot.  I get really cold in that open sleigh.  Rachel always was smart as a whip.  And thoughtful; not many children think to leave a snack for the reindeer.  Be sure and thank her for me."

    "You are remarkably impudent, even for a burglar." said Carl, 'Although I have to give you points for originality."

    "Burglars take; I give."

    "So, you're Father Christmas, are you?"

    "That's one of my names:  Father Christmas, St Nick, Santa Claus - it's all me."

    "I don't believe in Santa Claus." said Carl.

    "Don't be such a Grinch, Carl!  A man who has had an interview with The Boss' Son shouldn't be so cynical.  Remember Him?  Little boy, about so high, playing with a paddle ball?"

   Carl was flabbergasted: "How do you know about that?  I never told anyone, not even Rachel."

    "Hey, I'm Santa Claus!  I know everything!"    The man in red got to his feet and headed for the french doors. "Gotta fly!"

    "You're not going up the chimney?"

    "The door is more convenient." said Santa, "Want to give me a hand feeding the boys?"  He handed Carl a carrot.

    Out on the lawn stood a sleigh, with nine reindeer harnessed to it.  The one in the lead Did have a red nose, although Carl couldn't positively say it glowed.  He offered him the carrot.  He could feel the animal's hot breath on his hand.

    There was silence for a moment, except for the sound of munching, the jingle of the bells on the harness, and the occasional stamp of a hoof.

    "Remember, Carl, the spirit of Christmas does not live in men's hearts only one day of the year, but every day." said Santa.

    "That's from A Christmas Carol!" said Carl, "The Alistair Sim version."

    "That's your favorite." said Santa, climbing into the sleigh and picking up the reins. "Stand clear!  Giddyup!"

    The reindeer started moving.  As they picked up speed, their hooves left the ground; there was no mistaking it - they were flying!

    "Merry Christmas, Carl!  Carl!  Carl!"

    Carl opened his eyes.  Rachel was bending over him.

    "Carl, you fell asleep on the sofa!"

    "What day is it?"

    "Why, it's Christmas Day!"  She looked at the table where she had left the snack.   "You must have been hungry!  You ate the carrots as well as the sandwich!"

    "The reindeer ate the carrots, Love." said Carl, "And Santa ate the sandwich and drank the chocolate.  He said to thank you."

    "You're mad, but I love you!"

    "Merry Christmas, My Darling!"

                                  The End