I'm sneaking in under the wire here [which, at this time of year I'm guessing has been wrapped with some sparkling tinsel by now] to join in with 'Storytelling Sunday' hosted by the ever-inspiring spinner of yarns Sian at From High in the Sky.
After 3 years of encouraging bloggers worldwide to share a tale or two once a month Sian is closing the book on Storytelling Sunday and ever so gently setting down the idea on her bedside table. So I wanted to make sure to join in with her final chapter.
This little tale only happened this week ... so it's not something I've been mulling over for years ... but I still think the theme of Christmas and family fits in nicely with the theme Sian chose for Storytelling Sunday 2013 of 'Pick your precious'.
And here's some musical accompaniment for you ...
... while you read my story ...
Zat You Santa Claus?
Over recent weeks my parents, both retired, had been telling me how I ought to go and see the beautiful Christmas decorations on display at a local garden centre. Yet with one thing and another, I never got around to going.
But they persisted.
One morning, a fortnight or so ago, Dad phoned to tell me they were heading there for another visit and invited me to go with them for coffee.
But I was busy trying to get a magazine project finished and didn't want to get distracted. Not even by the offer of 'a big slice' cake he tried to tempt me with. So I didn't go.
Then ... the day after all my work was complete I sent him a text - the exact same sentiment of which I could have written 30-odd years ago [if there had been such a thing as a mobile phone waaaaayyyy back then!] because it read:
"I've finished all my work. When can I go and see Santa?"
And, as I'd been good all year ;-) ... I went. And it was indeed as lovely, festive, shiny, sparkly, snowy and splendid as they'd suggested. But now let's hop forward to two days ago when Dad extended another Christmassy invitation ... which, once again, could have been written somewhere back in time, when I was tiny:
"We're going to Helmsley, to see if Santa's there. Shall we pick you up?"
Now, I should just state, for the record, that I'm not actually regressing back to being a little girl [when I can still vividly remember telling my family I'd heard the sound of Santa's sleigh on the roof of our bungalow. If only there's been camera phones then; I'd have had proof!].
I'm honestly not currently actively seeking Santa out ... but ... the thing with this time of year is ... you don't always have to be the one doing the looking; sometimes the magic of Christmas finds you.
Because ... accepted the latest invitation [which was really to go Christmas shopping in a lovely little town in North Yorkshire] and, right after parking the car and walking into the town square ... I just happened to look up ... into a beautifully blue December morning sky ...
... and the sight that greeted me was this one:
"Look, look" I squealed, stopping in my tracks, pulling at their arms and at pointing toward the man in red himself.
"Look! You said we were coming here to if Santa was here ... and he is!!"
And it's times like that that make me so glad that, as a blogger / scrapbooker, I always err on the side of something wonderful happening ... and drop my camera in my bag before leaving the house.
You just never know when you might need proof that even though you actually stopped looking for him a long time ago ... you just found Santa!
-------------------------------------------------------------Thanks for letting me share my story with you today.
For more, do drop by Sian's place where everyone else is joining in with their own final Storytelling Sunday tales.
I'll see you soon.