Christmas Eve on Owings Street
To the Editor, It was a night before Christmas, 1965 in this house. All were sleeping. Thoughts of dreaming. If that big man dressed in red and white would be visiting. I told my folks there is no Santa Claus. “He’s fake...he’s not real,” I exclaimed. I said it over and over again. Dad said: “We will see about that.” Well Dad’s words were harsh but stern. Kind of like the Father in “The Christmas Story.” So after dinner, my sister and my four brothers went off to bed. Thoughts of tomorrow rushed through my head. I slept slightly through the night. I ...