Why I Believed in Santa Until I Was 17

“Kenny. Kenny, wake up.” I slowly opened my eyes to find my parents standing beside my bed, smiling. It was the middle of the night on Christmas Eve, 1978. I was five. I blinked, trying to focus. My mom put a finger over her mouth, signaling me to be quiet. “Come see.” I got outContinue reading “Why I Believed in Santa Until I Was 17”