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Showing posts from December, 2010

A Christmas Horse

When I was a little girl, every year I asked Santa for a horse. Every year I believed wholeheartedly that he would bring me one. I knew, from the age of 4--thanks to 5 older brothers--that our parents, not Santa, brought gifts. Still, part of me believed there was a Santa, and he would bring me a horse. That part of me still exists, except now it believes when I buy a lottery ticket, I am going to win.

Each Christmas, though I was happy with my toys and clothes, I harbored a secret heartbreak that Santa didn't bring my horse. One year my dad must have glimpsed my disappointment and asked me why I wasn't happy. I told him that I must not have been good because Santa didn't bring my horse. My dad, who could be a scary and intimidating person a lot of the time, pulled me up into his lap and said that Santa couldn't bring me a horse because we lived in the city, and it was illegal to have a horse in the city. I understood then and was no longer disappointed. In fact, I neve…