The sequel and scene of Christmas eve

 

Goal

Wanting to find out if there really is a Santa Claus

 

Conflict 

Lack of evidence and logic points to there being no such thing, but her heart wants to believe.

 

Disaster

Instead of seeing Santa she sees her dad laying out the presents. 

 

Emotion

She pretends to act like it’s not a big deal, but she goes back to bed crying.

 

Thought

Her dad tells her Santa is only an idea, but magic in the tradition is very real.

 

Decision

She accepts that there is no such thing as Santa but the “magic” of Santa is very real.

 

Action

As she grows into adulthood, she passes down the Santa Claus tradition to her kids. 

 

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I laid drifting in my bed that Christmas Eve night. Like every night on Christmas eve, my eyes were shut but my mind wondered. I couldn’t get any sleep. Like every Christmas eve night, I was laying still, waiting for Santa’s sleigh to arrive on our roof and Santa himself to come down the chimney with a bag full of presents. I always was a good little girl, so I was sure to receive lots of presents. Every year I try to keep my childhood imagination going, but this year felt different. I was twelve years old this year, and next year I was going to be thirteen. I’m growing older with each passing year and all my friends have already stopped believing in Santa; the same friends who used to believe in Santa as well as me, and now they stopped believing. I didn’t want to stop believing. “There has to be a Santa Claus!” I told them. This year, after school was over, I went to the library and tried to find proof that Santa really exists. I researched sightings of Santa’s sleigh, but they all proved to be fakes and misleads. I tried looking for Santa’s workshop in the North pool, but I couldn’t find any proof of any such place. My research led to nothing, but there had to be Santa! I saw him with my own eyes and I heard him downstairs when I was little. Except the more I thought about them, I then thought to myself:- did I really see or hear those things? I then realized I had only dreamed them; they didn’t actually happen. So there I was laying on my bed that Christmas eve, not really believing Santa was coming, but wondering- is he even real?

As I laid soundlessly in my room, I heard a noise downstairs. An idea came to me- there’s only one way to find out. I got up from my bed and put on my pink slippers. I opened my door and crept down the stairs as noiselessly as I could. The house was dim, except for the light in the living room. Someone was there! Near the Christmas tree! Laying out the presents!. I come a little closer toward the living room. 

“Santa?” I said softly. 

As I got closer into the living room. Instead of a big fat Santa in a red suit, I saw my dad in his robe and pjs. My heart sank inside me. Except if I was truly honest with myself, I wasn’t really so surprised when I saw him. I knew the truth all along, but I was still left disheartened. Dad turned around and saw me standing there. He looked at me as if to say it was only a matter of time.

“Honey? what are you doing downstairs?”

I looked at him with a blank expression.

“You’re ruining the surprise, you know” he then said to me.

“I came down to get a drink of water” I replied to him.

I walked to the other side and into the kitchen and grabbed myself a cup and filled it with water as I said I was there for. I took my cup upstairs to bed, and told dad goodnight. I didn’t want to give away my inner disappointment upon discovering the truth. There really was no Santa Claus.

It was best I knew the truth now anyway; I’m too old to be believing in Santa and elves and flying reindeer. I’m growing up now so I really should stop believing in magic. I felt myself crying and then tears shed from my eyes. “This is so stupid” I thought to myself “How can I be so crying over something as dump as as some imagery figure told to babies!”

The bedroom door was opened and I saw Dad come in. I turned from him as he saw me crying. He approached my bed and sat down near me. I was faced away from him, hiding my embarrassing grif. He gently placed his hand on my shoulder and said to me:- 

“I’m sorry sweetie, but to be honest I thought you would stop believing in Santa last year. You know I was your age when I released there was no Santa, and I know how silly you must feel because I cried too. But you know, you’re not crying because you release there is no such thing as Santa, but you're releasing your growing up, and you think you have to stop believing in magic, and people may tell you to stop believing in magic, but I’m telling you I never stopped and I don’t want you to stop either. I brought it to you for twelve Christmases and someday I want you to pass down that special gift to others. It’s magical what joys you can bring to your kids someday, and it’s as fun to give as it is to revive.”

I got up from my bed and dried my tears and I gave him a warm hug. I woke up that morning to the Christmas magic that I embrace every year. I have little ones of my own now and I give them the same spark of Santa Claus magic that I grew up believing and cherish to this very day.