The Santa‐Claus Scandal

It is the night of Christmas Eve, and my family and I gather in the living room, where the walls are adorned with Christmas decorations and a Christmas tree in the corner of the room, with the glass angel as the tree topper. I’m watching the classic holiday movie, Santa Claus, featuring Tim Allen (a film that I have watched at least thirty-six times). I was around ten-year-old. My family members are sitting on the couch, telling stories. I feel a presence beside me. I look up and see my cousin Evan sitting on my left side as I rest on the thickly carpeted floor.

“What do you want?” I ask. 

“Nothing can’t I just relax—” 

“No. Normally, when you sit by me, you want something.” I said.

“That’s cruel, Yasmeen,” he said.

“Is it?” I said.

“Well, you’re not wrong. I don’t want something from you,” he says. “I’m just here to tell you something.”

“Something like what?” I ask.

“Well, I’m sorry to ruin your Christmas spirit,” he says. “But Santa Claus isn’t real.”

I drop my cookie, and as it falls to the floor. I give Evan the are-you-serious look. I’m horrified that Evan just told me this while watching the Santa Claus movie.

“What d-d-do you mean, that Santa Claus is not real,” I said.

“He is f-a-k-e, Yasmeen. This is just a lie that Grandma told you.” he said.

“But he is real, I give him milk and cookies every year,” I said.

I began to feel the tears well up and start to stain my cheeks. I try to wipe them away but to no avail. My vision begins to blur. I shake my head and refuse to listen to Evan’s lies. I stand up and walk into the kitchen to grab another cookie. I sense Evan following right behind me.

“I’ll prove it to you. Evan, that he is real.” I said.

“Whatever Yasmeen you—”

“I’ll ‘prove’ it,” I said.

I came up with this brilliant idea to prove to my cousin that Santa Claus is real. First, I have to make sure that I gather all of my supplies: milk, cookies, a card, and food for the reindeer. By the end of the night, when all my family members are about to go to sleep, Evan and I are allowed to open up at least one gift from underneath the tree. I don’t open a gift because Evan ruins my night by telling me that Santa Claus isn’t real; I look in Evan’s direction and whistle “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.” He just shakes his head. My grandmother calls me to my room.

“Grandma, can I sleep in the living room tonight?” I ask.

“Sure Yasmeen. You want to see Santa Claus,” she said.

 I jump out of my bed — excited to see Santa on my 24-hour night watch—and grab my favorite book, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.  I look at the glass coffee table as it displays the treat. I had to gather earlier, including the food for Santa’s Reindeer, because they are working hard as well. My grandmother says goodnight to me as she heads to her room. I try my best to stay awake on the two-person couch and get the evidence I need to prove Evan wrong, but my body is consumed by sleep.

The next morning I wake up and rub the sleep out of my eyes after my eyes adjust to the light, I turn to my left, and to my surprise the display of milk and cookies is untouched, even the food for the reindeer is still on the plate. I couldn’t believe it, everything I thought was true is a lie. I can’t believe that everything Evan told me is the truth, but why did he have to ruin my Christmas?

I’m heartbroken that all those times I tried so hard to prove to everyone that Santa Claus is real. I made sure that I didn’t end up on the naughty list, and made cookies, food for the reindeer, and the gifts underneath the tree always read from Santa Claus. Who I refer to as Saint Nick. Did my grandmother write Santa Claus on the gift to make me feel better?

I walk back to my room— my safe haven— and climb into my bed. I pull the covers over my head and cry myself to sleep until everyone else in the house wakes up to celebrate Christmas— together as a family. I sleep until 7 a.m. when I hear the door of my bedroom open, by my dog Percy as he licks my face to wake me up.

“Ok, Percy. I’m up.” I said.

I get out of my bed and wash up before heading into the living room where my grandmother is making everyone breakfast. The warm aroma of pancakes and bacon fills the air. I say good morning to her. I sit at the kitchen table as each of my family members one by one joins me at the table. Then I see Evan wearing a smug look.

I don’t say anything to him at first; I just keep my head down and eat my food. After we all finish our food, we all go to the living room and gather around the Christmas tree. I look over the present seeing some names on the gift, Evan sits down beside me with a gift. He hands it to me.

“I’m sorry, Yasmeen. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he said. “I hope you can forgive me.”

“You’re still a jerk Evan, but I forgive you,” I said.

I gave him a hug and we continue to pass out all the Christmas gifts. We enjoy our day together as one big happy family as the snow begins to fall outside.

I dress up in my warm fluffy coat and warm red boot and my bright neon orange scarf and matching gloves. I ran outside and heard the crisp snow crunch underneath my feet and sticking out my tongue to catch the falling snowflakes as they landed on my tongue they melted instantly and send a shiver down my spine.