"I Saw Him"
Story by Amy , for Jack England

REF#_p5-1/Jack2.GIF

My name is Lacey Woodwright. I am 10 years old. I moved to England from Chicago, Illinois, USA four months ago, and it is almost Christmas. In Chicago, we called the old man who comes down the chimney on Christmas Eve Santa Claus. Now, here in England, we call him Father Christmas. My little sister, Jane, is already into English customs. My big brother, Andy, and I aren't yet used to calling Santa Claus Father Christmas. "Santa Claus? Who is Mr. Santa Claus?" the children at my school ask. Only my new friend, Farrah knows. Her grandfather lives in Toronto, Ontario in Canada. When I was nine I started to believe in Father Christmas/Santa Claus. I still do. No one else in my class, not even Farrah, believes in him. I actually saw him.

I was sleeping in my bed on Christmas Eve, tucked between my green and blue striped bed-sheets. (We were living in Chicago at this time) Jane and Andy were reading Andy's book. They sleep in the same bed. Suddenly I heard bells jingling. I ran to the window and saw the sky moving. A figure came closer. A red light shone through the trees. It was Santa Claus pulling his sleigh, Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and all his reindeer leading the way! I ran to Jane and Andy's room. I grabbed their hands and ran downstairs, them dragging against the stairs. "Ow! Lacey!" Andy howled. "...was stirring, not even a mouse..." Jane recited excitedly. We rushed to the family room and I sat in front of the fireplace. Jane held onto my shoulders and Andy lay down on the couch. We heard a 'clip-clop, clip-clop' on the roof, and Andy and I looked up. The chimney rustled. Boom, boom, boom, boom, THUMP. I gasped. There was the real Santa Claus! He dusted himself off and asked us, "Why, children, are you up late at night?" Our eyes lit up and I inquired, "You are real, aren't you?" Then we scurried upstairs, and I strolled into Jane and Andy's room, as I looked over Andy's shoulder and followed along with the book he read. I heard Santa Claus whisper, "Yes..."

I'll never forget what happened. I told Farrah the whole story, and she disagreed with me. "Oh, pish-tosh, Lacey, I don't believe that. But you're still my best friend."
But it happened! Really!

The End


Story by: Amy, age 9, Canada

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