available space in that room were all the toys for the
twins that were too large and awkward to wrap. My eyes met with Chris's. He winked, grinned,
then bounded from his bed. He grabbed for the silver
bells attached to red plastic reins, and he shook them
vigorously above his head. "Merry Christmas!" he
boomed. "Wake up, everybody! Cory, Carrie, you
sleepyheads--open your eyes, get up, and behold!
Look and see what Santa Claus brought!"
They came so slowly out of dreams, rubbing at
sticky eyes, staring in disbelief at the many toys, at
the beautifully wrapped packages with name tags, at
the striped stockings stuffed with cookies, nuts,
candy, fruit, chewing gum, peppermint sticks,
chocolate Santas.
Real candy--at last! Hard candy, that colorful
kind that churches and schools gave out at their
parties, the best kind of candy for making black holes
in your teeth. Oh, but it looked and tasted so
Christmasy!
Cory sat on his bed, bedazzled, and again his
small fists lifted to rub at his eyes, and he appeared
too bewildered for speech.
But Carrie could always find words. "How did
Santa Claus find us?"
"Oh, Santa has magic eyes," explained Chris, who
lifted Carrie up and swung her to his shoulder, and
then he reached to do this to Cory, too. He was doing
as Daddy would have done, and tears came to my
eyes.
"Santa would never overlook children