In J. J. Newberry's basement with Santa Claus

Despite the rip right through my older brother's face, this photo is in pretty good shape considering its age. I am so thankful I found it in a box of old photos meant some day to be a part of a family album. Of course back when it was taken there wasn't the technology as there is today so if photos weren't put into albums immediately, they were added to a collection of photos stored away in a drawer or a box once they were developed. I'm figuring a store employee took this photo. I think that #53 is a reference number for the photo. It doesn't matter. What matters are the memories, despite the fact I have no recollection of that day-still dressed in my snowsuit in the basement of a J. J. Newberry's in the heart of the downtown in my hometown.

I remember hearing stories of going there to see Santa Claus when we were little. I remember walking down the stairs and turning right but that's it. Maybe I can't remember because I would get so very excited when seeing Santa Claus despite my not even acknowledging him in the photo. My mother would tell me stories of the Christmas mornings when I'd be so over-the-moon excited that I actually made myself so sick that she had to bundle me up on the sofa while she and my father and older brother opened their presents.

From what I can recall hearing, Santa's booth was not far from the stairs. It was against a wall. It was busy every day leading to Christmas. My mother helped my brother and I write our "Letters to Santa Claus." We'd bring them with us to Newberry's to drop in that box in the photo. I remember a main item on my list for a few years was a Bonnie Braids doll. When I finally found her under the tree wrapped in Santa paper it was like finding a pot of gold-even better.

Usually it was my mother who took us to Newberry's but it is an aunt in the photo waiting while Santa talks to us. That aunt was like a mother to us. She never married so her nieces and nephews were special to her. We loved talking Christmas with her. We loved how she wrapped the presents she bought for us.

It wasn't until years later that my mother told me the Newberry's Santa Claus was a woman. She worked with my mother as a nurse and loved playing Santa Claus. I decided that's what matters. She loved igniting that wonder and belief in the children who came to see her in that store basement. That to me is what Santa Claus is all about.