By Tarah Scott
One Christmas Eve when I was about seven years old, my folks took me and my siblings out for the evening. Imagine our delight when we returned to find all kinds of presents beneath our tree! I was now a believer. I didn’t know how Santa had done it, or how my parents knew just the right time to get us kids out of the house to make way for our jolly guy in red, but they had pulled it off. I wonder if Santa remembers our house that night. I like to think he does, and when he does, he smiles just a little.
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