Santa and Frosty
I never believed in Christmas magic. It just never seemed true. No one understood how many times I had been stood up by Santa. And when I bought a boy’s magic kit hat, and put it on a snowman, it didn’t start to dance around like Frosty the Snowman. And I never did see Rudolph’s red nose glow. It just seemed that nothing could make me believe in that anymore.
I was now 14 years old, and people my age now don’t believe in Santa. The night before Christmas Eve, I took a little stroll around the snow capped hills near the meadow. Everything looked like it was covered in a white blanket, and felt exhilarating to everyone. Except me. I was done with Christmas. As I made my way through the valley in between the hills, I saw a little red door, the size was about 4 feet, or 4 and ½. I hurried over, and knocked. A little elf opened the door. “Hello, I’m Diffy. Who are you?” it asked me. “Umm, I am, uh, Im… Im Janet.” I didn’t know what to say. “We’ve been waiting for you,” another elf with a tag that said Dumple told me. A “ HO, HO, HO” came from inside, and I dashed to Santa. “Santa! I thought you didn’t exist!” A jolly laugh emerged from him. “I didn’t exist for you. That didn’t mean I stopped existing. It was you that didn’t believe in me.”
It dawned on me that he was right. “Where’s Frosty?” I asked. “Come with me,” said another elf. Except he wasn’t an elf. He was a gnome. This particular gnome was dressed in blue, and was an ice gnome, I was told by Dumple. He led me through an icy cold hall, and led me to a blue door with white snowflakes. He opened it, and it was a control center mixed with a snowy meadow. “Hello. I’m Frosty. Who are you?” he asked. “I’m Janet,” I responded. He smiled. “Glad to see your believing again.”
I smiled. It was good to be believing again. Now I knew. Santa was coming this Christmas.