“Hey, Mom. Can you sign this paper?” Geoff asked.
“Will you sign this paper,” Mom replied over her shoulder as she stirred the pot on the stove. “Is that what you mean?”
“Yeah, Mom. Will you sign this paper?” he said, impatiently. He was on a mission this Christmas Eve. A secret mission that could possibly lead him to the most important discovery he would ever make thus far in his nine years. He had started to hear rumors that Santa might not be real. He started to wonder, if Santa isn’t real, then who brings the presents? Who eats the cookies and cocoa we leave for him. This year, he was on a mission to find out who Santa really was.
Mom set the spoon down next to the stove and tousled Geoff’s hair with one hand as she took the pen in the other. “What am I signing?” she asked.
“Oh, just a paper. I’m just trying to get as many names as I can,” Geoff responded, already looking for the next person to ask. When his Mom finished, he took the paper to the kitchen table, where Grandma sat, still looking for last-minute deals in the newspaper ads. He sat next to her and pretended to read along. “Hey, Grandma,” he said.
“Geoffrey. I didn’t see you come in,” she said, placing her long, nail-polished finger down on the paper to keep her place. “Give your Gwamma a big hug and a kiss,” she puckered. Geoff leaned over and gave her his best, 9-year-old hug. He tried to pull away before the kiss but Grandma insisted and pulled his head back for a big smooch on the lips.
“Grandma,” Geoff said, quickly brushing his lips with his shirt sleeve, checking for red lipstick. “Would you mind signing this paper? I’m just trying to get everyone’s signature tonight.”
“Well, sure,” she said, carefully mouthing her name as she wrote it. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you go grab my purse and find yourself a dime.”
Geoff, grabbed his paper and started to the family room. “And Geoff, don’t forget to grab a penny too, for tithing,” Grandma hollered after him.
Geoff was nodding over his shoulder as he rounded the corner into the family room. The purse was easy to spot, sitting on top of the piano. As he rummaged through the bright blue purse, picking through perfumed hankies, old packs of gum and safety pins, he noticed Grandpa sitting on the couch. He grabbed eleven cents, put the purse back on top of the piano and approached his Grandpa. “Hey-ya, Grandpa,” he said. Grandpa didn’t respond. Geoff moved closer and leaned down to the same level as the Christmas storybook Grandpa was reading and said hello again.
“Geoff!” Grandpa said, with a start. He chuckled to himself and straightened himself up as he reached to turn up his hearing aids. He always turned the volume down at family gatherings because of the constant background noise generated by Geoff’s six siblings. Grandpa patted the cushion next to him and invited Geoff to sit down. “What’s going on, Geoff? Are you excited for Christmas in the morning?”
“Well, yeah. I’m excited. But I was wondering if you could sign this paper.”
Grandpa took the pen and paper and asked, “What is this for?”
“I just want everyone’s names. You know, just for fun. Just to remember who was here for Christmas Eve… and stuff.”
“Looks like you have a good start,” Grandpa said, adding his name to the list.
Geoff gave his Grandpa a hug and continued his hunt to get signatures. He found his older brother downstairs, playing video games and his older sister coming in from last minute shopping. Just before dinner, his Dad came home from work and Geoff was waiting at the door for his signature.
By the time bedtime rolled around, Geoff had signature of everyone in the house who could legibly write. Now, it was time to finish the last and most important part of his preparations. Closing the door to his room, he sat at his desk, turned the paper over and wrote a brief note. He signed his own name and stealthily crept up the stairs. He peeked his head over the banister and saw a flurry of activity. All the adults were busy around the kitchen table, laying out wrapping papers and ribbons. Clutching the letter, Geoff started toward the family room.
“Geoff!” boomed his Dad’s voice. “Where do you think you’re going? We sent you kids to bed 15 minutes ago. Santa will just have to pass over our house if no one ever goes to sleep.”
“OK, Dad. I just want to leave this note for Santa by the cookies. It will just take a minute. Please Dad,” begged Geoff. Dad returned to wrapping the gift in front of him and Geoff took that as permission to continue. After placing the note neatly by the cookies, with a pen angled across the middle of it, Geoff scurried back downstairs. Laying in bed he knew that in the morning all his questions would be answered and the mystery of who Santa really was would be answered in the morning.
Later that night, when all the presents were nestled under the tree and just one cookie was left on the Santa plate, a warm hand picked up Geoff’s note. “Dear Santa,” it read. “Thank you for the presents. I left you a few cookies and a cup of hot chocolate. I hope its still warm. Before you leave, would you mind signing this note? Thanks, Geoff.” The reader turned the paper over and chuckled at the other signatures, all ready to be compared to the last, determining signature.
