"A Note from Santa"
"Jimmy Dunne Says"
A few days ago, my just-three-year-old grandkid picked out a Christmas tree for his Grandma and “P” (for Grampie) at Simon’s Meadow.
Passed all the big, tall, full ones. Saw one just about his height.
Not much wider than a hug.
.
This one’s the best,” Whit said.
With Whit in charge of putting on the decorations, ornaments are hung too low, and clumped all together—and placed with the kind of confidence only a kid can have.
Most beautiful tree we’ve ever had.
This morning, I spotted something tucked into the branches like it had been waiting for me.
A note.
No envelope. No stamp. Just a folded piece of paper resting on a limb, as if the tree itself had grown it overnight.
On the front, it said, “To my dearest Palisadians.” It was signed, “Santa.”
I’m including a picture in this story, just in case you don’t believe me.
I felt like I was being asked to do one simple thing.
Share it. So here it is...
