This is a story told to me by my wife, Shirley. One particular Christmas, I asked Santa for a white shoulder bag. I waited with great anticipation for Christmas Day to come and when it did, like all kids at the time, I scurried downstairs to claim my long-awaited prize. Under the tree lay the biggest disappointment so far in my young life. There was no white shoulder bag. I sulked for most the day trying to hide my deep disappointment. With heavy heart, I ran up to my friend’s house to see what Santa had brought her. She escorted me into the room where the Christmas tree was, and there under her Christmas tree was the beautiful white shoulder bag! My heart was shattered! My head was spinning! Did Santa forget where I lived and went to my friend’s house? Was I a bad girl this year? I asked my friend if she had asked Santa for the shoulder bag and she said, “no, but I’m really glad that’s what he left under the tree for me.” I didn’t get the bag I wanted. She got the bag she didn’t ask for, and at the moment, I couldn’t forgive her for having my shoulder bag. I was so hurt I ran home and told my mom what had happened. Needless to say, there was some tall explaining to do. It was at that moment I was lovingly told who Santa really was. How much can a young mind stand?! I was mad at my best friend, I was extremely mad at that other Santa. I found the courage to go back to my friend’s to try and save our loyal friendship. I told her the whole story about my conversation with mom concerning ‘Santa’ and the white shoulder bag. Then she told me how she and her mom had had the same conversation! We hugged and never mentioned it again. Sometime after that, my mom came home from shopping and as usual, nosy me had to open the bags to see what she bought. You guess it, there it was, my white shoulder bag.  There is a Santa after all! Harold Clarke Cupids, NL