Santa's What?!

When Lyn was 14 years old, there was a program a local charity had established to have Santa call and speak to your child.  The maximum age limit for the call was 8 years old.

When Mom learned about the program, she signed Lyn up even though Lyn was clearly well above the program's limit.  On the registration form, Mom noted Lyn's real age and why it was still OK for Lyn to participate.  Mom noted Lyn's disability and that she still deeply believed in Santa.  Mom felt it was worth a shot and we didn't think much more about it.

A few weeks before Christmas, the phone rang and the caller identified themselves to Mom as part of the program.  They had seen the note and agreed that Lyn should speak to Santa.  A time was arranged for the call to happen when we were to be home.  At the designated time, a call came for Lyn.  Lyn took the call and her face lit up when she realized it was Santa on the phone calling to speak just to her.

Let me step back from this story for a minute to tell you a little about Lyn.  You already know she love the jolly old elf and counts him as a personal friend.  What you may not know about Lyn is that speech came late to her and it has been a challenge for her.  When she's tired or excited, when her brain's not firing right, her words get jumbled.  When we were little, I often served as her translator because I understand her speech patterns better than anyone except maybe Mom.  There was a time when even Mom would ask me to translate.  The other thing to know about Lyn is that she's not a mean or malicious person by any stretch of the imagination.  Don't get me wrong, she can be a pill.  However, she's inherently a good person.  So, that being said... back to our story.

Lyn was ecstatic that Santa was calling just to speak to her.  He didn't want to speak to her siblings.  He needed to check in with her.  She was shaking in her excitement.  We all knew what was going on and had gathered around to watch her call with Santa.  Here's how it went down from my perspective.

"Santa?  Santa!  How are you?"
"Santa, how is Mrs. Claus?"
"How are the raindeer?"
"How are your slaves?"

Yes.  She asked Santa how he slaves were doing.  I saw Mom's color drain from her cheeks and I knew that Lyn had mixed up sleigh and elves.  I literally fell over, good thing I was sitting on the floor, and laughed with tears streaming down my face.  The more I tried to not laugh, the more it was wracking my body to escape.

Lyn got mad at me.  She was trying to have a serious conversation and I was ruining it for her.  She would ask Santa a question or respond to something he said.  She was polite and happy in her responses to him.  To me, she was giving The Look and pointing her finger at me and then down the hall.  She wanted me GONE!

I have no idea what all they ended up discussing.  I was banished from the room until I could get myself back under control.  That was well after the call ended.  She was happy as a lark and I knew I had just encountered one of those stories that illustrate your life.


  1. I would have given anything to have seen santa's expression and listened to the discussion this comment made. NO, we do not condone slaves.
    Merry Christmas


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