The Christmas I Got a Can of Campbell’s Soup from Santa

I was 5 Yrs Old, knew EVERYTHING and was out to prove if  Santa really did exist or not…

It was 1979 and nobody did Christmas the way my mother did. My mother’s knack for decorating charming environments was at its peak for the “Big J’s” birthday!  Jesus people, Jesus ~ the crazed dude in your creche covered in straw. Ok, maybe he’s not crazed, but ours was, but I’ll leave that story for another time. Back-up a month a or so to Dear Santa letter writing time. I had already completed my “Santa Chart,” complete with a titles and headers of the item I desired, what stores it could be found in and a cut-out from the magazine pasted drip-elegantly on top! Ah, the early signs of A-type personality/ADD setting in happen young eh?

Fast forward a few weeks into the season and what’s this? Big kids on the back of the bus are saying, “There is no Santa?” Jiminy Crickets you gotta be kidding me! There is no way! My parent’s would not lie. Would they? Besides, how could all the children all over the world believe that there was a Santa? I imagine the discussions went long into the night and I must have had every question under the sun to investigate this Santa inquiry.

Katie: “And, and what about my favorite Rudoplh the Red Nose Reindeer Movie? What was that all about? Why did the big kids say there was no Santa?”
Mom &Dad: “They are just trying to tease you because they are bigger than you.”
Katie: “But seriously, how does Santa get to the children’s houses all over the world in one night?
Mom & Dad: “Well, because, he has his magic sleigh and reindeer.”
Katie: (Bewildered) “Nope. Still not possible. There’s not enough time!”
Mom & Dad: “But Katie, it’s not the same time all over the world, there are different time zones. ”
Katie: “Ohhh! …Nope – Still not possible. ”
Mom & Dad: “Because he has helpers. Helpers all over the world.”
Katie: “Ohhh. Okay. That’s possible. No wait! I needed substantial evidence. Aha! Mom and Dad, I know! What if I ask for something so peculiar, so ridiculous, that if there really is a Santa, he would bring it to me?”
Mom & Dad: (Grinning and relieved) “Sure Katie, why that’s a great idea! Hows about a lump of coal?”
Katie: “Ahh Dad, that’s been done before. It’s even in a book! I need something that’s never been done before! I know, I’m going to ask Santa for a can of soup for Christmas!”

So the holiday season flies by, I’m up and down toboggan hills and off to bed like a good little sugar and spice girl. Christmas morning comes and my mom’s  big production is in full swing! My twin and I weren’t allowed into the living room until everyone was awake – including my older, much bigger prepubescent late nighting brother who liked nothing more then to torment and draw out our 530am wake-up call (no doubt). When the start gun went off, I went right for my stocking! It was particularly heavy this year. I mean really heavy. I reached way in and at the bottom beside a gooey jujube was  a cold round container. I pulled it out and there staring up at me in my tiny little hands ~ what’s this?  A can of Campbell’s tomato soup! I was so confused! Why, why, why? I didn’t understand. I think I had forgotten about my Santa inquiry which made the moment that much more hilariously adorable for my family. My parents queued me,  “Remember Katie, you wanted to know if Santa really did exist and if he did, no matter how ridiculous he would bring you exactly what you asked for ~ a can of tomato soup!”

The littlest pout turned into the biggest grin and the most curious to wide-happy eyes came over me! “Santa is real! He does exist. He does exist! He remembered and brought me something as silly as a can of soup! He’s so silly! Silly Santa.”

And, that was the Christmas I got a can of soup from Santa. It was my most favoritist Christmas ever!

Richness Suggestion: Donate a can of tomato soup this Christmas into your neighbourhood non-perishables box.

What is one of your favorite ridiculous Christmas memories?

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In Richness of Christmas Memories….

Kate,

• 8:57pm
• “Here comes Santi-Claus, Here comes Santi-Claus” ~ Gene Autry

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