Muscatine

In Two Parts:

Christmas Adventure with Grandma

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid.
I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my
big sister dropped the bomb: ''There is no Santa Claus,'' she jeered.
''Even dummies know that!''

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that
day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her ''world-famous'' cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me.

''No Santa Claus?'' She snorted... ''Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That
rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go.''

''Go? Go where, Grandma?'' I asked. I hadn't even finished my second
world-famous cinnamon bun.

''Where'' turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town
that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through
its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.

That was a bundle in those days. ''Take this money,'' she said, ''and buy
something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car.'' Then
she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but
never had I shopped for anything all by myself.

The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish
their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there,
confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.

Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling
the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the
ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

bobby decker

had TB and infected everyone and crossed-dressed for communion. And enjoyed triple decker sandwiches.

response to fyi2, WHAT???

You went OUT of your way to hurt me after my heartfelt post on the loss of our beloved pet on 10/26. I was a new poster @ the time. (I try NOT to remember the hurtful posts). I can't forget YOUR many HATEFUL posts. Your posts did exactly what you intended. You hit me below the belt & I nearly caved. I chose to stay because of the love & kindness I received from others in my darkest hours.
Your responses are not cute, they are not ''thought provoking''. They are mean & hateful.
Lionjack can stand up to you. This is my own agenda. Got problems, fyi2? There are ways to deal w/ them without tearing other posters down.
You attempted to take this beautiful post & make it a joke. Had your history on this board been one of acceptance...the responses might have been acceptance! Unfortunately, your history is one of intolerance, hate & fear. I'm thinking you have a few other names on this board? If you continue to post w/ this personality & the ideas you spew, I will continue to take a stand that you won't like. You won't believe this, it makes me SAD! I REALLY do want to think that my neighbors are kind, smart @ want the best outcome in life for me & our neighbors.
I'd like to believe you are better than the responses I have read from you, fyi2.

I

Just chose to ignore the poor soul that he is.