Through the Eyes of a Child I remember being almost three when I sat upon Santa's knee. He was a lot bigger than I had imagined him to be. As I sat there I started to cry, really not knowing the reason why. He was nice, jolly, tender and mild… I was too young to realize all the while, I had just met Santa through the eyes of a child. When I got older and went to school, some of the other children told me that I was being fooled. "Santa is not real." some of my friends said, "Your parents put out the toys when you fall asleep in bed." I asked my big brother what he thought about what I heard. "Of course Santa is real," He reassured. On Christmas morning there was no doubt, Santa had come with presents all about. I saw the belief in Santa through the eyes of a child. Years later, married, with a family of my own, I experienced a part of Christmas that only a parent knows. Each of our children has a wish from Santa for Christmas Day; they want books, candy and toys for play. We tell them to be good, behave and don't fight, for Santa is watching you all day and all night. When the big day comes and the moment arrives, my children wake me up in the morning at a quarter of five. I saw the magic of Santa through the eyes of a child. Now that I am older with my children all grown, each of them now has a family and a house of their own. We gather each December to celebrate our traditions with stories, stockings and cookies in the kitchen. I as sit in my rocker, getting ready to read, my youngest granddaughter crawls upon my knee. "Twas the night before Christmas…" as the poem goes; I look at all my granddaughter with her face all a glow. I see something in her eyes from a long, long time ago… I see the legacy of Santa through the eyes of a child. Phillip L. Wenz copyrighted.