Personal Narrative : A Short Story : Christmas Eves '

Decent Essays

It was Christmas Eve, and I had just hung up my stocking by the fireplace-right where it would be all ready for Santa when he slipped down the chimney. I knew he was coming, because-well, because it was Christmas Eve, and because he always had come to leave gifts for me on all the other Christmas Eves that I could remember, and because I had seen his pictures everywhere down town that afternoon when I was outside with my Mother. Still, I wasn't JUST satisfied. 'Way down in my heart I was a little uncertain-you see, when you've never really and truly seen a person with your very own eyes, it's had to feel as if you exactly believed in him-even though that person always has left beautiful gifts for you every time he has came. "Oh, he'll come" I said;"I just know he will be here before morning, but some how I wish-" "Well, what do you wish?" said a Tiny Voice close by me-so close that I fairly jumped when I heard it. "Why, I wish I could SEE Santa Clause myself. I'd just like to go and see his house and his workshop, and ride in his sleigh, and know Mrs. Clause-it would be such fun, and then I'd KNOW for sure." "Why don't you go then?" said the Tiny Voice so close to me. "It' s easy enough. Just try on these Shoes, and take the Light in your hand, and you'll find your way all right." So I looked down on the Earth, and there were two cunning little Shoes side by side, and a little Spark of Light close to them-just as if they were all made out of

Get Access