It had been five years since she ventured out at Christmas. After the accident it was impossible to go anywhere without causing a near riot. People had so many questions. The fire had left it’s mark. A couple more years of surgeries might erase the nightmare. Until then, the boys were walking advertisements for skin grafts.
Holding her sons hands she inched towards Santa’s Village. They had thrown a holy holiday fit when she refused to take them to Santa’s Village. They didn’t care if the entire mall stared at them. People always stared at them. They wanted to deliver their lists to Santa in person. Registration was simple; one form, a slide of a debit card and now to wait. Five families from Santa her nine year old tugged on her arm.
“I want to go home.” He cried. “I don’t want a photo. I don’t want any pictures.” His older brothers eyes, narrowed as he watched his sibling begin to cry.. “I agree. I’m tired of being the side attraction.”
Dinner that evening was quieter than normal. “I guess Santa won’t get our lists.” The nine-year old lamented.”We should have stayed. Why am I so stupid? We went all that way for nothing.”
“I’ll send Santa your list tomorrow, don’t worry I’m sure he saw you.” She assured.
“Is that Santa? Asked her eleven year old. “Santa. Santa came to our house!”
Jumping up her nine year old ran to the door and flung it open. “Santa, we’re in here. We have cookies. I promise and milk too.”
“Come here children and bring your list.” Grabbing her camera she followed the brood into the front room. Glancing at her youngest she raised the camera to get his permission.
“Go ahead mom.We need a picture before we’re to big.” He said.
Looking through the lens she watched as mercy and peace wrapped their arms around her two angels.
Is That Santa?
Photo By Jordan Oram