Originally posted by The Old American
I know what you're going to say because it's nothing that other people haven't said to me. You'll read this and roll your eyes. You'll give me all the reasons it wasn't Santa. You'll tell me it was my dad, or my brother, or my neighbor. You'll say I was sleepwalking, or was just half awake and my eyes were playing tricks. But I'm going to tell you anyway, because I'm a 44 year-old man that believes in Santa Clause.

I was 6 years old when this happened on Christmas Eve, 1972. I woke up sometime after midnight because I had to go to the bathroom. Up until that time, and since then, I had rarely not slept all the way through the night, even if in the morning I woke with a full bladder. I got out of bed and wandered down the hall to the bathroom, did my thing, and walked to the bathroom door.

I paused because I heard something in the hallway. We had cats so that was my first thought. Thinking I'd be able to startle one of them and make then jump (that's something I still, to this day, never get tired of) I opened the door very slowly and quietly, intending to stomp on the floor to make them scramble.

It was then that movement at the end of the hall caught my eye. I hadn't yet opened the door all the way, so I was able to just see into the living room. We kept the porch light on, so the room just at the front door was illuminated slightly. I could see the Christmas tree (the lights on the tree were off) and standing next to it was a figure. He was adult-sized, large, had big, fluffy clothes on, and a "Santa hat". I could tell he had a big beard, by his outline. I couldn't see details or color because the light was faint, only just enough to let me see silhouettes.

He was bent over slightly and had his arm extended as if he were reaching for the door. My first thought was not "why is he using the door" (we didn't have a fireplace), but was "if he sees me I won't get any presents!" So my 6 year-old mind told me to run quickly to the bedroom, jump in bed and pretend I was asleep! Of course, the act of running to my bedroom would put me in full view of Santa, but...did I mention I was 6 at the time? The most bizarre part is that as I was running to my bedroom I kept an eye on him and just before I got to the door to my bedroom he just...vanished. I stopped and looked, and even (quite bravely, I thought) walked over and turned on the hall light. But nobody was there at the end of the hall.

Christmas morning came we had the normal presents under the tree. Every year "Santa" would leave unwrapped gifts at the end of the hall for my brothers and I (yes, the same hall that opened into the living room). I knew later, of course, that those were left by my parents to appear as presents from St. Nick. I didn't mention seeing him because I was taught that if you saw Santa you would never get any presents. I thought I had just gotten away with the coup of the century, and I was not about to ruin that!

Some years later I did ask my mom if there was ever a time that I or my brothers got a present from Santa that they didn't put there at the end of the hall, and neither knew where it came from.

She said, "Only once, when you were young. You got a knife, and we didn't buy it for you because we thought you were too young for one. But we let you keep it anyway. Why?"

I just smiled at her and said, "Just wondering." Can you guess what year I got my first folding knife?

Nothing like that ever happened again, but to this day I maintain that I saw Santa Clause that night. I've told my wife (who thinks I'm a nutbar), and my son (who believes me...HAH!) I've told other people and they have said pretty much everything I outlined at the beginning. To them, and to you that are saying the same, I say this:

My parents slept with the door open. Both of them were in bed (their bedroom was right next to the bathroom). My two brothers and I shared a bedroom. They had bunk-beds and they were both occupied. The only other person it could have been at the time would be one particular neighbor whom my parents would trust with a key to our house. The problem with that is that he is about 6'5", and the person at the end of the hall was not. I had not before, nor have I ever since sleepwalked. When I wake up, I'm alert have never had my eyes play tricks on me to the extent that I have seen something as real as a person moving around.

You are welcome to give me your reasons as to why I most definitely did not see Santa Clause. Why I should lay off the psychedelics. Why Santa was made up to scare little atheists. Whatever. But I know what I saw that Christmas Eve in 1972. And I still believe in Santa.

But the Tooth Fairy is right out!

/TOA