My Kind of Hero
“Scroll, scroll, scroll – stop, stop! Oooh, she looks cool.” I inspected my daughter’s choice, comparing it to a mental checklist: blue denim shorts, hot pink singlet, lemon-yellow trench coat…
“Do we have all of this stuff?” I asked.
A Christmas Gift
“Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!” Father John came bumbling out of the trees that border the old brick church house. The children were already stirring, his arrival pre-emptively announced by the sturdy golden handbell in his right hand – a sound all too familiar.
“SANTAAAAAAAAAA!” Screamed a younger one.
We scrambled to our places – parents, aunties and uncles to children’s sides to coax them up to the big man, children to the front of the circle prime for receiving. Aunty Say – leader of Church Activities and thus default spokesperson for Santa each year, took up her seat at his throne’s right hand.