As the sun set over the snow-capped peaks of the Sangre DeCristo mountains, its fading
light gave the panorama of plains and mesas to the east an eerie, supernatural glow. Even
after being born and raised near here, 30 miles north in Raton, New Mexico and having
traveled this stretch of I-25 countless times since moving to Denver, Jed Cooper was still
awestruck by the powerful raw beauty of this country.

As a nationally respected independent security consultant, Jed spent more time on the
road than anywhere else, which was just fine with him, even on this Christmas Eve. He
had never married, and his parents had passed on years ago. He had no real roots or
family, and therefore no commitments. Despite the nationwide nature of his profession,
he rarely traveled in airplanes. Sure, planes are much faster, but someone else had control
over his fate, something he could never be comfortable with. Besides, he enjoyed driving
and relished seeing everything America had to offer, from ground level.
Jed glanced at his watch, “Almost five, should be home by nine or so, plenty early
enough for a quick one at the Grizzly Rose and a good night’s sleep.”

Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, not that it really mattered. Other than dressing up as
Santa, and doing some time at the shelter for homeless families, Christmas day held little
else that was special to him.
Jed always became a bit melancholy as he drove through this area. Raton reminded him
of his childhood, his parents, and most of all, his high school sweetheart. Jenny was his
first, and only love. Whenever he passed through, he thought about Jenny.
“I wonder where she is, what she’s doing, or if she’s even still alive,” he thought to
himself. “Is she married? Dumb question, of course she is, probably has grandkids by
now. Wonder if she stayed in Raton, or went off to the big city, like we’d always dreamed
we would…”

Throughout high school, Jed Cooper and Jenny Valerio had been together, going steady
they called it then. They loved each other, and were certain they’d be married someday.
But life, and fate, is sometimes cruel to young lovers. Soon after graduation, Jed was
drafted for Vietnam. Jenny begged and pleaded with Jed not to go.
“I’d rather live as a fugitive in Canada, with you at my side, than lose you to some damn
war nobody believes in.” Jenny would sob, tears rolling down her young face, “If you go,
I can’t wait for you, I couldn’t bear the pain.”

Jed was torn between his love for Jenny, and his duty to his country, but in the end Jed
knew what he had to do. “I have to go, Jen. I couldn’t live with myself if I ran away from
this, and you couldn’t either. Don’t worry, I’ll get back O.K.”
Jenny wasn’t convinced, and being young and hurt, she threw a tantrum and told Jed
sharply, “It’s obvious you don’t love me as much as you love the thought of war and
adventure in some rice paddy half a world away. Go on and go. I don’t want to see or hear
from you ever again.”

She didn’t mean it, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it back. She knew in her heart
that Jed was the only man she could ever love.
Jed wasn’t too worried about Jenny, and he told his friends, “She’ll get over it, and she’ll
love me even more when I come home with a shirt full of medals.”

He still wasn’t worried when, the next evening, he saw Jenny at the A&W, parked with
the quarterback of the football team. Jed and Brad Simmons had been rivals since
kindergarten, and Jed figured, “She’s just trying to make me jealous.”
When Jenny didn’t even show up to see him off to boot camp, Jed began to wonder if he
might have really lost her. When she wouldn’t return his letters, or take his phone calls,
he was convinced she no longer cared. He had a leave coming after boot camp, but
heartbroken, he went straight to Vietnam instead.

In Vietnam, survival was top priority, though he thought of nothing but Jenny in his rare
moments of peace and solitude. Jed found that war really was hell, especially this one. He
did what he could to survive, and mourned the loss of many friends. One especially hot
and rainy night his platoon was overrun by Viet Cong forces and the heroism Jed
displayed, by carrying his badly wounded platoon sergeant through enemy infested jungle
to the safety of Da Nang, earned him the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Jed’s parents were absent on the day that the President of the United States draped the
Medal around his neck. His Commanding Officer had assured him that passage to the
Washington D.C ceremony had been approved for his folks, and soon after the affair Jed
found out the reason for their absence: While driving to the Albuquerque airport, his
parents were involved in an automobile accident. There were no survivors.

After losing his parents, the military became his only family. He never went back to
Raton, even for his parents’ funeral. He made a career out of the Marine Corps, then
started his own security business in Denver after he retired. He never even stopped in

Raton for gasoline, if he could help it. The memory of his parents and the love he left
behind was just too painful.
As the miles continued to roll by, taking him closer to the hometown of his childhood,

Jed wished to himself that he could somehow change the past. How grand his life would
have been, if he’d only had Jenny and his parents there to share it with him. With that
thought, he willed Jenny, his folks, and Raton out of his mind. “They’re gone, and you
can’t change the past, dummy.”
As Jed continued to guide his Corvette northward through the crisp New Mexico winter
dusk, he noticed the peak called “Eagle Tail” just to the east.

“Used to be some good deer hunting up there,” he remembered, “got a nice ten point buck
my first time.”
As he gazed up at the peak, now littered with radio towers, he saw an object flying just
above the mountain’s mesa-like base, in his direction.

“Kind of small for a military jet.” he thought. Military planes from Cannon and Kirtland
often flew at low altitude in this area.
As the object grew near, he was sure that it wasn’t a military jet, or any other kind of
airplane for that matter.

“What the…” he exclaimed out loud, as the craft neared. “It can’t be…naw…”
He quickly rubbed his eyes and set them back onto the highway. The object seemed to be
a sleigh, pulled by nine tiny reindeer. The white beard and red suit of the driver were
plainly visible, as well as the bright red nose of the lead reindeer.

“I’ve gotta be imagining things,” Jed muttered as he turned his head for another look. As
quickly as he turned his head, Jed instinctively ducked as the sleigh bore down, on a
collision course. As the sleigh buzzed Jed’s Corvette, he lost control, crashed through a
barbed wire fence and traveled several meters, until he ended up under the bridge
spanning the Canadian River, swamped. As the car lurched to a sudden stop in the river,

Jed’s head bounced off of the steering wheel, knocking him out cold.
It took Jed a few minutes to orient himself once he regained his senses. The winter sun
had disappeared behind the mountains to the west and the air had gotten much colder.

The cold Canadian River water, now up to his neck, didn’t help matters much. Jed
couldn’t force the car door open, but he was able to escape through the driver’s side
window.

Cold, wet and near hypothermia, Jed rescued his now wet jacket from the sinking car,
climbed up the riverbank and started walking as quickly as possible northward on the
interstate toward the lights of Raton. Jed soon lost all feeling in his outstretched thumb,
but the exercise generated enough body heat to keep him going. Despite his predicament,
his mind began racing.

“Am I going nuts? Everybody knows that Santa Claus is just a myth, but the Santa piloted
sleigh was sure real enough. Was it my imagination? Was I hallucinating? Did I really get
buzzed by flying reindeer?”

As Jed continued to plod up the highway, questioning his sanity and the events that led to
his crash, he didn’t notice the passenger car that had slowed and pulled to the shoulder
behind him. The car’s horn caught his attention and he turned towards it, startled.
“What happened, mister. You need a lift to town?”
“What happened, yea, that’s a good question.” Jed retorted sarcastically.
J
ed thought to himself, “I can’t tell these people what really happened, or at least what I
THINK happened. I’d be sent to the cracker factory pretty darn quick, though a nice cozy
rubber room does sound kind of good right now.”
Jed walked over to the driver of the car. “I swerved to miss a deer. Ended up in the river.
I would sure appreciate a lift into Raton.”

The driver, a young, good-looking fella, smiled and opened the rear door. “Climb on in.

The wife brought along a thermos of hot coffee, you’re welcome to have some.”
After Jed settled into the rear seat, he saw that the young man was not alone. A pretty,
twenty-something girl, with dark hair, doe-like brown eyes, and golden skin, occupied the
passenger seat. In the middle was a child seat, filled with the bundled up form of a young
boy. There was something about the girl; like he had seen her before, but he couldn’t
quite put his finger on it.

“I appreciate the ride, young man, and this coffee sure hits the spot, ma’am. My name is
Jed. I used to live around here, a long time ago. You can just drop me off at the nearest
telephone.”

“No trouble, Jed. My name is Mike Johnson. This is my wife, Emily, and this little fella
here is our son, Josh. We live in Las Vegas, but Emily’s family lives in Raton and luckily
for you her Uncle Joe owns a towing company. Don’t you worry about a thing. Nothing’s
gonna be open tomorrow, it being Christmas and all. You just spend the night with us, at
Emily’s mom’s place. She’s a great cook, and you can use the telephone to call your
family. Uncle Joe will tend to your car after Christmas dinner, but I don’t think that you’ll
be driving it again anytime soon. Day after Christmas we should be able to hook you up
with a rental. Or maybe your wife could drive down and fetch you?”

“I’m not married. In fact I’ve really got no place that I need to be, or anyone who will
worry about me. I’ve been alone for quite a long time.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll spend Christmas with us.”
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you any…”
“No trouble,” Mike’s wife chimed in, “Momma would love the company of a fine looking
gentleman like you… once you dry out.”

Jed took an immediate liking to the young couple. “What the heck, a good home-cooked
meal and a warm bed sure beats a motel. I accept your invitation, and I sure appreciate
the hospitality. Merry Christmas to you both.”
Emily’s eyes brightened as she exclaimed, “That’s what Christmas is all about, Jed.
People caring for other people.”

Jed winked, as young Josh peered over the car seat eyeing him curiously. As they drove
into Raton Jed noticed that the names of most of the stores had changed, but that
downtown Raton still looked much as it had twenty-five years earlier. As the car cruised
slowly up Main, Jed’s throat tightened at the sight of all the downtown Christmas
decorations, and the large Christmas tree right smack in the Main street median. The
buildings, the tree, and the decorations, combined with the backdrop of imposing snowcovered
mesas leading up to Raton Pass made downtown Raton look like Christmas
heaven. He immediately regretted ever leaving his hometown.
As the car continued up Main, through the railroad underpass and east on Sugarite, Jed’s
senses were filled with memories of many of the places he saw. Much of the town had
changed, but some places were the same as he remembered them. The Johnsons left him
to his silence, until they pulled into the driveway of a small, well-kept house on Garcia
Street. The twinkling lights of a Christmas tree escaped through the drapes of the front
picture window.

“Look Josh, we’re here. Let’s go in and give Grandma a great big hug,” Emily cooed as
she bundled the child into his coat.

Mike Johnson turned to Jed. “I’d appreciate some help with the packages in the trunk,
Jed.”

“No problem, Mike. Glad to help out.”

As Jed and the young family entered the house Emily called out,

“Momma, we’re here and we brought some company.”

A female voice answered from a hallway, “I’ll be out in a second, Emmy. Who have you
brought with you?”

Jed’s ears homed in on the voice from the hallway; there was something familiar about it.
When the woman entered the room, the packages in Jed’s arms, as well as his jaw,
dropped to the floor and his body stiffened with surprise and emotion.

“Momma, this is…”

“Jed…” the woman squeaked, as tears welled up in her big brown eyes.

“Momma, you know this man?”

For what seemed to be eternity, Jed couldn’t make a sound come from his mouth. Finally
he was able to choke out, “Jenny. My God.”

Jenny rushed to Jed’s arms, and as he embraced her it seemed that all the years they had
been apart just disappeared. Mike and Emily could only stare, dumbfounded, as the two
childhood sweethearts hugged and wept. Little Josh wasn’t the least concerned.

“Grandma, I want some candy.”

Over the dinner table, Jed and Jenny caught up on the events of their lives over the last
twenty-five years. Mike and Emily tried to remain politely silent, but could not help
asking Jed about wartime experiences. Josh, of course, was another matter. He demanded
constant attention, as children do, until finally Jenny convinced him that it was bedtime.
“The faster you get to sleep, the sooner Santa can deliver your presents.”

Mike and Emily excused themselves to put little Josh to bed, and Jed could hear their
excited whispers, when they thought they were out of earshot. For a time, he could only
gaze at Jenny, drinking in her every feature, amazed at the way time had made her even
more beautiful. Jenny gazed back at him, looking directly into his eyes, thanking the Lord
for bringing him back to her. Jed broke the silence.

“So who did you finally marry?”
He noticed her eyes widen, as if she had forgotten something, and she did not answer
immediately. Jed could just imagine an angry husband storming into the room at just that
moment. The tears that began clouding her eyes made him fear the worst. Jenny’s voice
was little more than a whisper when she answered.
“I never married, Jed. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”
Jed’s heart nearly melted, “And I still love you, Jen…” Then a sudden thought crossed his
mind. His voice was strained with emotion when he finally continued, “…then who is
Emily’s father?”
“You are, my darling, I’m so sorry that I never…”

Before she could finish, there was a sharp crack as the back of Jed’s chair met the floor,
after he fainted for the first time in his life.
The next day, as Jed and Mike followed Joe Valerio’s Mega-wrecker down I-25 to
retrieve Jed’s car, both men were silent, lost in deep thought. Both thought about how
strange and wonderful the twists and turns of life can be, and wondered just how
independent from fate they really were. Jed knew that he would never leave Jenny again.

He would marry her, as he always knew he would as a teen. After so many years apart,
every moment together would be treasured and from now on, every Christmas would be
even more magical. Of course, no Christmas would ever be as special as this one had.
As they approached the Canadian River Bridge, Jed was suprised to see that his car had
been removed from the river, and sat sparkling clean on the shoulder, the sun glistening
off the brightly polished chrome.
“Did the State Police already send a wrecker?”
“Could be”, Mike replied, “looks like you got a ticket on the windshield.”

Jed got out of Mike’s car, and walked over to his own. There was no evidence of the
Christmas Eve accident. In fact, the car hadn’t looked this good since it was new. Jed
reached out and took the slip of paper from beneath the wiper blade. It wasn’t a ticket, but
just a plain piece of white paper, with a short hand written note. As Jed read the note, he
broke out in hysterical laughter.
Confused, Mike asked, “What is it, Jed?”
“Nothing,” he laughed, “just a note from a good friend.”
Despite the confused look on Mike’s face, Jed stuffed the note into his pocket. He’d read
it to Jenny later.

DEAR JED, SORRY ABOUT YOUR CAR, RUDOLPH IS GETTING OLD AND HIS
EYESIGHT ISN’T TOO GOOD, BUT I THINK THAT YOU’LL FORGIVE ME. YOU
AND JENNY CAN TELL YOUR GRANDSON HOW GRANDPA GOT RUN OVER
BY A REINDEER. MERRY CHRISTMAS.
SANTA

By Daniel ‘Chip’ Ciammaichella

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Bertie was a very good boy. He was kind, obedient, truthful, and unselfish. He had, however, one great fault,—he always forgot.

No matter how important the errand, his answer always was, “I forgot.” When he was sent with a note to the dress-maker his mother would find the note in his pocket at night. If he was sent to the store in a great hurry, to get something for tea, he would return late, without the article, but with his usual answer.

His father and mother talked the matter over, and decided that something must be done to make the little boy remember.

Christmas was near, and Bertie was busy making out a list of things which Santa Claus was to bring him.

“Santa Claus may forget some of those things,” said his mother.
“He cannot,” replied Bertie; “for I shall write sled, and skates, and drum, and violin, and all the things on this paper. Then when Santa Claus goes to my stocking he will find the list. He can see it and put the things in as fast as he reads.”

Christmas morning came, and Bertie was up at dawn to see what was in his stocking. His mother kept away from him as long as she could, for she knew what Santa Claus had done.

Finally she heard him coming with slow steps to her room. Slowly he opened the door and came towards her. He held in his hand a list very much longer than the one he had made out. He put it in his mother’s hand, while tears of disappointment fell from his eyes.

“See what Santa Claus left for me; but I think he might have given me one thing besides.”

His mother opened the roll. It was a list of all the errands Bertie had been asked to do for six months. At the end of all was written, in staring capitals, “I FORGOT.”

Bertie wept for an hour. Then his mother told him they were all going to grandpa’s. For the first time he would see a Christmas-tree. Perhaps something might be growing there for him.

It was very strange to Bertie, but on grandpa’s tree he found everything he had written on his list. Was he cured of his bad habit? Not all at once; but when his mother saw that he was particularly heedless she would say, “Remember, Santa Claus does not forget.”

by M.A. Haley

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“It has never been this cold,” said the wise old turtle. The rabbit agreed, the squirrel agreed, and so did all the birds. They were all looking up because Christmas day was getting closer. The sky held only one cloud today. The forest animals named it the universal hankie because it was so large with no breaks.

Hankie did not realize it had been named and now looked below at its subjects. He realized nature placed animals in the forest for the humans to learn from their ways. Animals needed food, shelter, and a safe place to live just like humans. Since the animals named Hankie, what made him so special? Well, Hankie could be bright, get real dark and rain, or just decide to mesh with the sky and look blue. Bright meant a sunny day, dark would bring rain water for parched land, and blue was clear to all that good weather was indeed a gift.

When Hankie covered the forest with crystal white snow, the sky looked like a salt shaker spilling its contents. After the snow falls you can walk outside and see your footsteps, use your sled and have fun sliding down a hill, or even make an angel in the snow by moving your arms and legs until a snow angel appeared. The animals looked forward to snow as they would chase each other around the trees.

The animals watched as Hankie seemed to disappear. Now, they went about their tasks collecting food. Rabbits had stored carrots for the Christmas feast, squirrels saved their choice nuts, and the birds brought out their premium seeds used only for such joyous times. The Christmas committee found an abandoned house near a windmill for their celebration. All the families were delighted.

Hankie became visible as it looked at them all. Each one was counted and lived on the third planet. Both animals and humans were expected to make the world better. Then it happened, the snow started to fall. The sky did indeed look like the biggest salt shaker above their heads. Animals were happy and so were all the people and especially the children. It would indeed be a wonderful Christmas for people and animals alike.

Hankie wants me to tell you he has much responsibility being so far above us. He sees both the good and the bad and asks us to mind our manners. Our deeds can be as white as the snow.

Have a very Merry Christmas and give more personal presents by your example. Your friends and family will be proud of you. After all there is much to share at this giving season, and we should start now.

–Carol Ann Garretson

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Anne could not decide on what type of Christmas tree she wanted but her daughter Alice knew exactly which tree would be best. Alice wanted a real tree to be planted in the front yard after Christmas. It was getting close to the time to begin their search for that perfect tree and Alice was excited.

There was so much to do around this giving season and many presents to be made and wrapped. Alice went to the closet and reached for her coat, hat and gloves. Her mother was already waiting for her on the porch, as she was putting a wreath on the door that had displayed angels with wands. Alice had helped make the wreath with a great deal of hard work and patience. She wished everyone who entered this door might feel a bit curious upon seeing the angels with the wands. Perhaps, Alice thought, one of the visitors might be granted their seasons wish. It is quite true, Alice had a very vivid imagination, but she also had great love for others even at her young age of five years old.

The door closed behind Alice and she and her mother walked from the sidewalk to the garage. The car was warm from being enclosed and the first flakes of snow had not fallen on it yet. Alice and her mother fastened their seat belts, backed up the car, and entered the main street. Their search would now begin.

There were several tree stands of beautifully displayed fresh bright green trees, but Alice knew they would have to drive almost to the state border to find one for their special needs. She and mother looked at several rows of trees which seemed healthy and strong. Then Alice stopped, for she had selected the very one meant just for them. As she walked closer what did she see, but two trees–almost like a mother and daughter. Alice thought it was just like the two of us–big and little.

Mother listened while the man who owned the Christmas trees explain to them exactly how to preserve both trees and then plant them later. Then they drove back home with their cherished trees just peeking out of the trunk.

This would be the best Christmas ever thought Alice with two trees and one exactly her size. She would make all the ornaments herself out of special paper and trinkets she had saved in her bottom dresser drawer. Alice even made special tree cookies with the help of her mother. Each cookie looked like a little elf.

The time came for the guests to arrive and Alice and mother greeted them at the front door dressed like paper doll figures. Alice looked like a fairy princess, just like out of one of her books, and mother looked like a beautiful queen. They made their costumes out of crepe paper, so they had to be very careful in the way they moved and walked through the house. Their outfits were a big success, as the guests had made their costumes as well.

The evening went by so quickly and the laughter and smiles on the faces of all soon were gone and the house was quite still. It was a wonderful party thought Alice as she tucked into bed that night.

When morning arrived Alice walked out the front door to see the new fallen snow. To her surprise all the angels with their wands were missing from the wreath and in their place were little pink hearts with messages that read; Love, Friendship, Caring, Understanding, Kindness, and Happiness.

You see, six guests were not looking when those angels went home with them that night. They must have jumped onto their coats as they left for their homes. Both Alice and her mother smiled and gave each other a big hug. They did not speak, but are you curious?

Merry Christmas guests and look for those angels. Their wands are filled with surprises.

–Carol Ann Garretson

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It was beyond anybody’s understanding why Frez was getting so particular and asking for an elf suit larger than his size. Then, one day Santa found out what the problem was and decided to solve it. It seemed that Frez was not a young elf, but elves never looked their age by the virtue of being ever cheerful and happy. Frez needed to feel he was special, so Santa assigned him his own project called “special toys.” These were the toys that were broken and needed to be repaired with love. Frez was so glad to be in charge of such a project that he had only one lunch that day because he had to hurry back to his tasks.

There is a lesson to be learnt from what Santa did for the elf. Sometimes we have off days when we just don’t feel positive. Someone’s smile or invitation to join some friends can make our whole day worthwhile.

Frez is now content with assembling the broken toys and transform them into something new, and he has stopped being a voracious eater that he once used to be because he is happy. He even wears his old suit now, and his new suit is taken in for his smaller waist.

Its wise for us to try and do something worthwhile everyday so that a “Frez Attack” will never get us. We all have special talents and potentials and we can definitely help someone out if he is feeling a bit low. It takes only a few seconds to be able to know why someone is not feeling happy. Take out that time from your usual day and listen. Most importantly, we are here to help each other and all of us have that hidden talent to do it. Start to make use of that talent today.

–Anonymous

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As a nationally respected independent security consultant, Jed spent more time on the road than anywhere else, which was just fine with him, even on this Christmas Eve. He had never married, and his parents had passed on years ago. He had no real roots or family, and therefore no commitments. Despite the nationwide nature of his profession, he rarely traveled in airplanes. Sure, planes are much faster, but someone else had control over his fate, something he could never be comfortable with. Besides, he enjoyed driving and relished seeing everything America had to offer, from ground level.

Jed glanced at his watch, “Almost five, should be home by nine or so, plenty early enough for a quick one at the Grizzly Rose and a good night’s sleep.”

Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, not that it really mattered. Other than dressing up as Santa, and doing some time at the shelter for homeless families, Christmas day held little else that was special to him.

Jed always became a bit melancholy as he drove through this area. Raton reminded him of his childhood, his parents, and most of all, his high school sweetheart. Jenny was his first, and only love. Whenever he passed through, he thought about Jenny.

“I wonder where she is, what she’s doing, or if she’s even still alive,” he thought to himself. “Is she married? Dumb question, of course she is, probably has grandkids by now. Wonder if she stayed in Raton, or went off to the big city, like we’d always dreamed we would…”

Throughout high school, Jed Cooper and Jenny Valerio had been together, going steady they called it then. They loved each other, and were certain they’d be married someday. But life, and fate, is sometimes cruel to young lovers. Soon after graduation, Jed was drafted for Vietnam. Jenny begged and pleaded with Jed not to go.

“I’d rather live as a fugitive in Canada, with you at my side, than lose you to some damn war nobody believes in.” Jenny would sob, tears rolling down her young face, “If you go, I can’t wait for you, I couldn’t bear the pain.”

Jed was torn between his love for Jenny, and his duty to his country, but in the end Jed knew what he had to do. “I have to go, Jen. I couldn’t live with myself if I ran away from this, and you couldn’t either. Don’t worry, I’ll get back O.K.”

Jenny wasn’t convinced, and being young and hurt, she threw a tantrum and told Jed sharply, “It’s obvious you don’t love me as much as you love the thought of war and adventure in some rice paddy half a world away. Go on and go. I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again.”

She didn’t mean it, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it back. She knew in her heart that Jed was the only man she could ever love.

Jed wasn’t too worried about Jenny, and he told his friends, “She’ll get over it, and she’ll love me even more when I come home with a shirt full of medals.”

He still wasn’t worried when, the next evening, he saw Jenny at the A&W, parked with the quarterback of the football team. Jed and Brad Simmons had been rivals since kindergarten, and Jed figured, “She’s just trying to make me jealous.”

When Jenny didn’t even show up to see him off to boot camp, Jed began to wonder if he might have really lost her. When she wouldn’t return his letters, or take his phone calls, he was convinced she no longer cared. He had a leave coming after boot camp, but heartbroken, he went straight to Vietnam instead.

In Vietnam, survival was top priority, though he thought of nothing but Jenny in his rare moments of peace and solitude. Jed found that war really was hell, especially this one. He did what he could to survive, and mourned the loss of many friends. One especially hot and rainy night his platoon was overrun by Viet Cong forces and the heroism Jed displayed, by carrying his badly wounded platoon sergeant through enemy infested jungle to the safety of Da Nang, earned him the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Jed’s parents were absent on the day that the President of the United States draped the Medal around his neck. His Commanding Officer had assured him that passage to the Washington D.C ceremony had been approved for his folks, and soon after the affair Jed found out the reason for their absence: While driving to the Albuquerque airport, his parents were involved in an automobile accident. There were no survivors.

After losing his parents, the military became his only family. He never went back to Raton, even for his parents’ funeral. He made a career out of the Marine Corps, then started his own security business in Denver after he retired. He never even stopped in Raton for gasoline, if he could help it. The memory of his parents and the love he left behind was just too painful.

As the miles continued to roll by, taking him closer to the hometown of his childhood, Jed wished to himself that he could somehow change the past. How grand his life would have been, if he’d only had Jenny and his parents there to share it with him. With that thought, he willed Jenny, his folks, and Raton out of his mind. “They’re gone, and you can’t change the past, dummy.”

As Jed continued to guide his Corvette northward through the crisp New Mexico winter dusk, he noticed the peak called “Eagle Tail” just to the east.

“Used to be some good deer hunting up there,” he remembered, “got a nice ten point buck my first time.”

As he gazed up at the peak, now littered with radio towers, he saw an object flying just above the mountain’s mesa-like base, in his direction.

“Kind of small for a military jet.” he thought. Military planes from Cannon and Kirtland often flew at low altitude in this area.

As the object grew near, he was sure that it wasn’t a military jet, or any other kind of airplane for that matter.

“What the…” he exclaimed out loud, as the craft neared. “It can’t be…naw…”

He quickly rubbed his eyes and set them back onto the highway. The object seemed to be a sleigh, pulled by nine tiny reindeer. The white beard and red suit of the driver were plainly visible, as well as the bright red nose of the lead reindeer.

“I’ve gotta be imagining things,” Jed muttered as he turned his head for another look. As quickly as he turned his head, Jed instinctively ducked as the sleigh bore down, on a collision course. As the sleigh buzzed Jed’s Corvette, he lost control, crashed through a barbed wire fence and traveled several meters, until he ended up under the bridge spanning the Canadian River, swamped. As the car lurched to a sudden stop in the river, Jed’s head bounced off of the steering wheel, knocking him out cold.

It took Jed a few minutes to orient himself once he regained his senses. The winter sun had disappeared behind the mountains to the west and the air had gotten much colder. The cold Canadian River water, now up to his neck, didn’t help matters much. Jed couldn’t force the car door open, but he was able to escape through the driver’s side window.

Cold, wet and near hypothermia, Jed rescued his now wet jacket from the sinking car, climbed up the riverbank and started walking as quickly as possible northward on the interstate toward the lights of Raton. Jed soon lost all feeling in his outstretched thumb, but the exercise generated enough body heat to keep him going. Despite his predicament, his mind began racing.

“Am I going nuts? Everybody knows that Santa Claus is just a myth, but the Santa piloted sleigh was sure real enough. Was it my imagination? Was I hallucinating? Did I really get buzzed by flying reindeer?”

As Jed continued to plod up the highway, questioning his sanity and the events that led to his crash, he didn’t notice the passenger car that had slowed and pulled to the shoulder behind him. The car’s horn caught his attention and he turned towards it, startled.

“What happened, mister. You need a lift to town?”

“What happened, yea, that’s a good question.” Jed retorted sarcastically.

Jed thought to himself, “I can’t tell these people what really happened, or at least what I THINK happened. I’d be sent to the cracker factory pretty darn quick, though a nice cozy rubber room does sound kind of good right now.”

Jed walked over to the driver of the car. “I swerved to miss a deer. Ended up in the river. I would sure appreciate a lift into Raton.”

The driver, a young, good-looking fella, smiled and opened the rear door. “Climb on in. The wife brought along a thermos of hot coffee, you’re welcome to have some.”

After Jed settled into the rear seat, he saw that the young man was not alone. A pretty, twenty-something girl, with dark hair, doe-like brown eyes, and golden skin, occupied the passenger seat. In the middle was a child seat, filled with the bundled up form of a young boy. There was something about the girl; like he had seen her before, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I appreciate the ride, young man, and this coffee sure hits the spot, ma’am. My name is Jed. I used to live around here, a long time ago. You can just drop me off at the nearest telephone.”

“No trouble, Jed. My name is Mike Johnson. This is my wife, Emily, and this little fella here is our son, Josh. We live in Las Vegas, but Emily’s family lives in Raton and luckily for you her Uncle Joe owns a towing company. Don’t you worry about a thing. Nothing’s gonna be open tomorrow, it being Christmas and all. You just spend the night with us, at Emily’s mom’s place. She’s a great cook, and you can use the telephone to call your family. Uncle Joe will tend to your car after Christmas dinner, but I don’t think that you’ll be driving it again anytime soon. Day after Christmas we should be able to hook you up with a rental. Or maybe your wife could drive down and fetch you?”

“I’m not married. In fact I’ve really got no place that I need to be, or anyone who will worry about me. I’ve been alone for quite a long time.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll spend Christmas with us.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you any…”

“No trouble,” Mike’s wife chimed in, “Momma would love the company of a fine looking gentleman like you… once you dry out.”

Jed took an immediate liking to the young couple. “What the heck, a good home-cooked meal and a warm bed sure beats a motel. I accept your invitation, and I sure appreciate the hospitality. Merry Christmas to you both.”

Emily’s eyes brightened as she exclaimed, “That’s what Christmas is all about, Jed. People caring for other people.”

Jed winked, as young Josh peered over the car seat eyeing him curiously. As they drove into Raton Jed noticed that the names of most of the stores had changed, but that downtown Raton still looked much as it had twenty-five years earlier. As the car cruised slowly up Main, Jed’s throat tightened at the sight of all the downtown Christmas decorations, and the large Christmas tree right smack in the Main street median. The buildings, the tree, and the decorations, combined with the backdrop of imposing snow-covered mesas leading up to Raton Pass made downtown Raton look like Christmas heaven. He immediately regretted ever leaving his hometown.

As the car continued up Main, through the railroad underpass and east on Sugarite, Jed’s senses were filled with memories of many of the places he saw. Much of the town had changed, but some places were the same as he remembered them. The Johnsons left him to his silence, until they pulled into the driveway of a small, well-kept house on Garcia Street. The twinkling lights of a Christmas tree escaped through the drapes of the front picture window.

“Look Josh, we’re here. Let’s go in and give Grandma a great big hug,” Emily cooed as she bundled the child into his coat.

Mike Johnson turned to Jed. “I’d appreciate some help with the packages in the trunk, Jed.”

“No problem, Mike. Glad to help out.”

As Jed and the young family entered the house Emily called out,

“Momma, we’re here and we brought some company.”

A female voice answered from a hallway, “I’ll be out in a second, Emmy. Who have you brought with you?”

Jed’s ears homed in on the voice from the hallway; there was something familiar about it. When the woman entered the room, the packages in Jed’s arms, as well as his jaw, dropped to the floor and his body stiffened with surprise and emotion.

“Momma, this is…”

“Jed…” the woman squeaked, as tears welled up in her big brown eyes.

“Momma, you know this man?”

For what seemed to be eternity, Jed couldn’t make a sound come from his mouth. Finally he was able to choke out, “Jenny. My God.”

Jenny rushed to Jed’s arms, and as he embraced her it seemed that all the years they had been apart just disappeared. Mike and Emily could only stare, dumbfounded, as the two childhood sweethearts hugged and wept. Little Josh wasn’t the least concerned.

“Grandma, I want some candy.”

Over the dinner table, Jed and Jenny caught up on the events of their lives over the last twenty-five years. Mike and Emily tried to remain politely silent, but could not help asking Jed about wartime experiences. Josh, of course, was another matter. He demanded constant attention, as children do, until finally Jenny convinced him that it was bedtime.

“The faster you get to sleep, the sooner Santa can deliver your presents.”

Mike and Emily excused themselves to put little Josh to bed, and Jed could hear their excited whispers, when they thought they were out of earshot. For a time, he could only gaze at Jenny, drinking in her every feature, amazed at the way time had made her even more beautiful. Jenny gazed back at him, looking directly into his eyes, thanking the Lord for bringing him back to her. Jed broke the silence.

“So who did you finally marry?”

He noticed her eyes widen, as if she had forgotten something, and she did not answer immediately. Jed could just imagine an angry husband storming into the room at just that moment. The tears that began clouding her eyes made him fear the worst. Jenny’s voice was little more than a whisper when she answered.

“I never married, Jed. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”

Jed’s heart nearly melted, “And I still love you, Jen…” Then a sudden thought crossed his mind. His voice was strained with emotion when he finally continued, “…then who is Emily’s father?”

“You are, my darling, I’m so sorry that I never…”

Before she could finish, there was a sharp crack as the back of Jed’s chair met the floor, after he fainted for the first time in his life.

The next day, as Jed and Mike followed Joe Valerio’s Mega-wrecker down I-25 to retrieve Jed’s car, both men were silent, lost in deep thought. Both thought about how strange and wonderful the twists and turns of life can be, and wondered just how independent from fate they really were. Jed knew that he would never leave Jenny again. He would marry her, as he always knew he would as a teen. After so many years apart, every moment together would be treasured and from now on, every Christmas would be even more magical. Of course, no Christmas would ever be as special as this one had.

As they approached the Canadian River Bridge, Jed was suprised to see that his car had been removed from the river, and sat sparkling clean on the shoulder, the sun glistening off the brightly polished chrome.

“Did the State Police already send a wrecker?”

“Could be”, Mike replied, “looks like you got a ticket on the windshield.”

Jed got out of Mike’s car, and walked over to his own. There was no evidence of the Christmas Eve accident. In fact, the car hadn’t looked this good since it was new. Jed reached out and took the slip of paper from beneath the wiper blade. It wasn’t a ticket, but just a plain piece of white paper, with a short hand written note. As Jed read the note, he broke out in hysterical laughter.

Confused, Mike asked, “What is it, Jed?”

“Nothing,” he laughed, “just a note from a good friend.”

Despite the confused look on Mike’s face, Jed stuffed the note into his pocket. He’d read it to Jenny later.

DEAR JED, SORRY ABOUT YOUR CAR, RUDOLPH IS GETTING OLD AND HIS EYESIGHT ISN’T TOO GOOD, BUT I THINK THAT YOU’LL FORGIVE ME. YOU AND JENNY CAN TELL YOUR GRANDSON HOW GRANDPA GOT RUN OVER BY A REINDEER. MERRY CHRISTMAS.
SANTA

By Daniel ‘Chip’ Ciammaichella

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It was beyond anybody’s understanding why Frez was getting so particular and asking for an elf suit larger than his size. Then, one day Santa found out what the problem was and decided to solve it. It seemed that Frez was not a young elf, but elves never looked their age by the virtue of being ever cheerful and happy. Frez needed to feel he was special, so Santa assigned him his own project called “special toys.” These were the toys that were broken and needed to be repaired with love. Frez was so glad to be in charge of such a project that he had only one lunch that day because he had to hurry back to his tasks.

There is a lesson to be learnt from what Santa did for the elf. Sometimes we have off days when we just don’t feel positive. Someone’s smile or invitation to join some friends can make our whole day worthwhile.

Frez is now content with assembling the broken toys and transform them into something new, and he has stopped being a voracious eater that he once used to be because he is happy. He even wears his old suit now, and his new suit is taken in for his smaller waist.

Its wise for us to try and do something worthwhile everyday so that a “Frez Attack” will never get us. We all have special talents and potentials and we can definitely help someone out if he is feeling a bit low. It takes only a few seconds to be able to know why someone is not feeling happy. Take out that time from your usual day and listen. Most importantly, we are here to help each other and all of us have that hidden talent to do it. Start to make use of that talent today.

- Anonymous

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I remember I was busy in the kitchen a few days after Christmas when Taylor, who was three and a half years old, approached me. He said something to me, but I could not hear him. “What?” I asked looking down at him. Looking up at me with a solemn face, he held up a crayon and a piece of paper. “Wight yor name,” he said. I went to the table, sat down, and wrote my name. Taylor quietly watched as I did this. After I had finished writing my name, he left the table, and went into his bedroom. When he returned he had in one hand a piece of paper with Geff’’s handwriting on it, and in the other hand he clutched a “Santa tag” he had kept from Christmas Day. He laid them down on the table, got up on a chair, arranged the 3 items, and studied them intensely.

“Nope, day not da same,” he said. He looked at me with a big, bright smile. “What are you talking about?” I asked him. “Dis kid towed me dat Santa Claus is my mommy and daddy. He towed me to check da wighting next yee-ah. I dew it now. ” he said. He then jumped out of the chair, and threw the samples of mine and Geff’s handwriting into the garbage can. With his belief in Santa restored, he bounced through the kitchen waving the “Santa tag”.

Five years has passed since that day. Taylor is growing in leaps and bounds. He has been asking me a lot of interesting questions lately. Who is St. Nicholas? (He was a man who loved children.) Why do people call Santa Claus, St. Nicholas? (It’s his nickname.) Reindeer can’t really fly, can they? (I’m not an animal behaviorist. You need to write to Jack Hanna and ask him.) How does Rudolph’s nose light up without hurting him? (You mean without electrocuting him? I have no idea, you need to call and ask an electrician.) etc..

I believe Taylor and I have developed a mutual understanding during these question and answer sessions. He wants to know, but he hesitates when asking his questions, and I only give as much information as needed in answering his questions. I can see the doubt flicker across his face, but he doesn’t question me to a great extent. He seems to be content for now. He isn’t really ready for the truth, and I definitely am not ready to tell him. I feel that Santa is the only link left to that little boy who bounced through the kitchen after he realized the handwritings were “not da same”. I know the day will come in the near future when he will no longer believe in Santa, and our last link to that little boy will be gone forever. Until that day arrives we will leave things as they are.

Someday when Taylor has a little one of his own, I will remind him about buying separate gift wrap, tags, and bows for presents from Santa. I will also remind him to have someone else write on the tags from Santa.

Who knows, maybe someday, years from now, he will be standing in his own kitchen, and hear a soft, little voice say, “Wight yor name.”

Dedicated to the child in all of us, and to Kris Kringle.
Kris, I still miss you. You will live on in my heart forever.

Written by CindyG
Copyright© 2000

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In truth, neither of them had idea about how to predict the coming winter. However, the chief decided to take a modern approach, and the chief rang the National Weather Service in Gaylord Michigan.

‘Yes, it is going to be a cold winter,’ the meteorological officer told the chief. Consequently, he went back to his tribe and told the men to collect plenty of firewood.

A fortnight later the chief called the Weather Service and asked for an update. ‘Are you still forecasting a cold winter?’ he asked.

‘Yes, very cold’, the weather officer told him.

As a result of this brief conversation the chief went back to the tribe and told his people to collect every bit of wood they could find.

A month later the chief called the National Weather Service once more and asked about the coming winter. ‘Yes,’ he was told, ‘it is going to be one of the coldest winters ever.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ the chief asked.

The weatherman replied: ‘Because the Native Americans of the Great Lakes are collecting wood like crazy.’

Author Unknown

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The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums. My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself – thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen – “Now Dasher, now Dancer…” et al. – guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.

As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved – with utmost celerity and via a downward leap – entry by way of the smoke passage. He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.

His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion’s floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about-face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage. He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: “Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn.”

Author Unknown

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