The Writer's Pen

How well I remember the time Santa came into my house in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve. I saw him! Yes, I did!

We were living on the ranch in Montana in a little white house across the yard from my uncle's log house. I was about 4 years old. My little brother, Jerry, and I slept on the couch in the living room. I can still hear my mother working in the kitchen that night doing some baking for Christmas dinner.

Soon, the house was quiet and we finally fell asleep. We didn't have a fireplace, so we knew Santa would have to come in through the door. I was awakened later by a quiet nois...