This blog is about the story of my family here in America. We arrived in the 1630s as Puritans, and became the common folk of the New World.

The year that Santa visited our house

I was four years old when Santa visited our house, and I can still see him, and the memory is vivid. It was our next-door neighbor who had dressed up as Santa, and my dad had slipped him a couple of bucks for the effort. I can still hear the "boom-boom" knock on the door (our house didn't have a chimney) and I can still see him, standing about ten feet tall, dressed in red.

It saddens me to think that in my lifetime so many people have associated men doing things like this for children with "pervs". How people's minds can immediately go there, I have no idea, but unfortunately pictures of children with Santa seems to bring out this horrific connection.

The man who dressed up as Santa and visited us kids was not a "perve". He was a good man, and he understood how much it would mean to the children. It did. I remember. And he brought one of the greatest experiences to a little kid, and a wonderful memory to this aging man.

Thank you, Santa!
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