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My memories of Santa Claus are scant. For a few years when I was little, extra toys appeared on Christmas morning, and a couple of times, the cookies got eaten, too. I expect Mom and Dad took me to the mall or some such place to sit on the lap of the guy in the red suit, too. But my most vivid memory associated with Santa was finding my presents from Santa in my grandfather’s car one December. The magic ended there . . . at least as far as Santa was concerned.
But I’ve always loved Christmas. As a kid, I loved the church Christmas pageants and the Midnight Candlelight Service on Christmas Eve. I adored driving around and looking at the lights on all the houses, and the Grinch always made an appearance on an evening when I got to stay up late with a big, marshmallow-laden cup of hot coc
