Arthur, Ontario, Canada
May 22
I'm an old, short, fat, unsightly, grouchy, reformed troll with a bad attitude and a cricket bat. ---------------------------------------------------- I need to state clearly that English is not my first language. There are upwards of 600,000 words in the English language. In my native language there are a mere 11,000 and most of those are entire concepts (kind of like the theory of relativity) rather than words which translate individually. ----------------------------------------------------- Free advice: Don't.

MrsRaptor's Links
DECEMBER 13, 2011 11:51PM

Why I believe in Santa's Cause...

Rate: 10 Flag

A crusty curmudgeon and a cast of characters taught me the wonder of Santa's Cause...   

My Crusty Curmudgeon Father:  



In October of 1981 my father (pictured above in 1990) was admitted to Northern Michigan Hospitals to have bypass surgery done in the hopes of restoring circulation to his left foot.  Unfortunately, the surgery failed about a month later and he had to have the foot amputated.  The date for that surgery was the 9th of December. 

Back then patients were kept in the hospital longer than they are today and because of the date there was some question if he would be home for Christmas or not but when Doctor Ledingham told us that he was certain that dad would be home for Christmas we kids all believed him.   Unfortunately, following the surgery dad got an infection and we made the decision to put Christmas on "hold" until dad came home from the hospital.  Interestingly enough, it was us kids who suggested it to mom rather than the other way around. 

I remember someone asking me at the hospital what I wanted for Christmas and I looked at her and said"my dad to come home" because that was all that I wanted.  Dad to be home. 

Christmas eve came and for some reason I was the last person to bed that night.  There wasn't a single decoration up, nothing special had been planned for meals... we were all planning on being at the hospital all day.  That was about midnight.  

I got up about 530 in the morning to build a fire in the cookstove and start a pot of coffee before waking my brothers up to go to the barn to do morning chores and there was a light on in the kitchen.  I knew that I had shut the lights off when I went to bed and that mom and the boys were all still sleeping so I kind of scratched my head and decided that one of the boys had gotten up and left the lights on.  

Imagine my surprise when I walked into the kitchen and sitting at the end of the table in a wheelchair was my father, drinking a cup of coffee.  I let out a scream that woke everyone else in the house up.  The look on my mother's face was priceless when she came around the corner to see what I was screaming about.  

The looks on the faces of my brothers and I when we walked into the living room and discovered that Santa's Elves had delivered a decorated tree, presents and the makings for dinner were even more priceless.  

Dad never revealed who brought him home on Christmas eve, he just laughed and said "Santa's Elves."  Dr Ledingham, almost 30 years later (and 20 years after my father's death), still refuses to say who pulled off that particular miracle and not only got dad out of the hospital but brought him home and delivered dinner and presents *without* waking anyone in the house up.   My mother had no clue who brought dad home or who arranged for us to have Christmas on Christmas Day that year. 

The secret remains... in 30 years nobody has blabbed. 

Santa Claus?  I don't know.   

Santa's CAUSE on the other hand...   I'll help with any time.  

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OK, since it's been so long, I'll let the cat out of the bag. It was Alvin and The Chipmunks. I have it on good authority from Tink who got it from the second cousin of his wife's hairdresser's maid. The maid got it from the grey squirrel she feeds on her balcony each morning. And he should know because he once sat through an entire Elvis concert with one of the groupies that hung around the Chipmunks sitting only 3 rows ahead of him.

They'll probably deny telling me 'cause it was supposed to be a secret.........
AWWWWWWWWW... Your pops looks like he could a wrestle bear while bouncing his daughter on his knee! :D
Note to self: bloodcurdling scream equals effective wake up call. Isn't family fun!
ahhh this is so wonderful ! :) r.
Dammit, now I believe again, too. Wait...that means I don't hafta buy any presents this year...thanks, Mrs.R! I believe! I BELIEEEEEVE!!!
Some things are meant to remain mysteries, but when I look at the photo of your dad, I see a sweet looking big guy in red.
It all happened overnight. Wow. What a great story.
Cool Yule story, Mrs R. And what a Christmas gift.
Skye... we are all fairly sure Dr. Ledingham (who still looks like a blond version of Gonzo Gates from the program "St. Elsewhere")had something to do with it... but he has never confirmed or denied whether our suppositions were correct.

Amy... Dad was a character. I was about 10 the day I sat and counted the number of cuss words he used before repeating himself... 27 of them. Between mom's creative use of English and Dad's cussing I have mastered the art of the backhanded insult.

Phyllis... yep, they are. Awake, vertical and moving.

Jon... Thanks.

Well Chicken Maan... something had to get you out of your Scrooge-like rut. LOL

Miguela... Looks can be deceiving. That photo was taken at the wedding of one of my brothers... Dad is wearing the pants from his tux he had worn to the wedding along with a red insulated flannel shirt (it was about 95 that day). He'd have changed into his blue jeans between the wedding and reception but for the fact it meant he would have had to take his legs off to get the pants off and he just couldn't be bothered. LOL He was a character.

Janie... it was a Christmas Miracle.

Zanelle... overnight... on Christmas. And we'll never know who delivered him home.

Yep Bo... and the reason I believe in Santa's Cause.
A beautiful Christmas story. It helps restore my faith in humanity. We all have great capacity to do wonderful things for each other.
You didn't buy the "Alvin & The Chipmunks", huh?

I was gonna try another one on now; but my cheek hasn't returned to its proper shape since I poked it so hard for the first one.

I'm sure that you already know that a patient cannot get out of a hospital until either the attending physician or a higher ranking physician employed by the hospital signs him out. It is extremely rare for such a higher ranking physician to sign someone out and on would be VERY reluctant to do so; he'd hardly help with the wheelchair and all the other stuff.

Skeptic... I'm an old cynic... but every year at this time of year I take that particular memory out and am reminded once again that the greatest thing we can give one another is HOPE.

Skye... At the time Dr. Ledingham was the chief of staff at the hospital in addition to being dad's doctor. There wasn't a "higher medical authority" but my father never said who was responsible, mom never KNEW and Dr. Ledingham refuses to either confirm or deny we are correct in our supposition that he arranged that particular miracle for us. And so while logic tells us he was involved in it... we will most likely never know for certain how it came to be.