Yes Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus
by Death Star

  It was Christmas Eve and the little girl was without 
cheer.  How could she be?  She was dragged from her home
and placed on a strange ship and her family was struggling,
even with the flurishing city beginning in the ship.
  But that was not the worst of it.  Her older brother,
about seven, told her there was no such thing as Santa.
He told her that her parents pretended to be Santa, and
now that they were so low on money, that there wouldn't
be any gifts.  
  How could a five year old believe such a thing?  Of
course she listened in on her parents, like any five
year old in her situation would have done.  But their
talking only proved her brother to be true.  
  Crushed, she was without cheer.  For Santa was not
real, and there would be no Christmas that year.  Like
a fad, it no longer existed.  Perhaps, next year.
  That night she was out, not far from her home, playing
with a few of her friends.  She knew she should be home,
like any good five year old, but she couldn't bare to face
the fact there was no Santa.  Besides, she didn't like
her stepdad.  He was fat and lazy, always sitting and
never doing anything.  He was always dirty and never
bothered to bathe, and probably was the cause of all
their pain.  It was a real bane.
  Playing with her friends, she saw it was getting late.
Heading home that night, she walked slowly, not noticing
the cheer around her, as other kids were under the 
delusion that Santa was real.  No, not she, for she had
grown up, like all good five year olds must.  She was
now mature, so she thought.
  Heading to her house, she sighed as she stepped in. 
Her mother was preparing the meal, but she turned it down.
Why would she eat, without a Christmas cheer?  It was
like anyother day, one without hope.  Heading up to her
room, she passed her brother, who was merry, ready to
eat all her food.  Just like any bad seven year old.
  However, her stepdad watched her pain.  He loved her
very dear, though he was the cause of all their pain, like
a bane.  His heart ached, like any good father, and he
vowed to make her Christmas one of cheer.
  The dinner was ate, the little Christmas Eve dinner it
turned out to be.  The turkey was some chicken from the
store, two weeks old.  The mashed potatoes had seen their
days, and the gravy was just some flavored drink.  The
family, without the girl, talked about Christmas, the 
little boy greedy for gifts, like any bad seven year old,
and didn't know the true meaning of Christmas.  Who
cares about Christmas? says he.
  The mother put the dishes away, the five year old girl
listening, tears at her eyes.  What was the cheer, with
no Saint Nick?  What was Christmas without the hope, like
the one of the Jews when Christ was born, on a night like
this, if you could consider it night, on the cold ship.
Without cheer.
  Sending the boy to bed, the stepdad excused himself and 
went off into the night.  The mother watched some TV out in 
the big lobby, for all, since no one could afford their 
own, alot of times.  It was some old classics, with
Santa Claus, of course.  O, how the five year old girl's
heart ached.
  Laying in the bed, the five year old girl sighed with
her heart aching.  Somehow, she knew, her stepdad
was behind all this.  Before he came, she had dreams
of sugar plums and candy canes dancing around in her
head, like all good five year olds.  And she was try,
oh how she would try, to stay awake and listen out for
Santa.  But he never came.  No wonder, he wasn't real.
And she was without cheer as her brother leered.
  Falling into a restless sleep, one without hope, she
was awaken to a clutter.  Opening her eyes, she looked 
out the shutter, and she saw eight shadows on the ground,
all in the shape of raindeer.  O, her heart sailed.  
They where all wrong, Santa WAS real.
  Racing down the small stairs, she looked into the only
room on the bottom.  There sat there Christmas tree, a metal
hunk of decorations, pitiful in sight.  But there before 
it was Santa Claus himself, laying down a single gift.
Racing down the stairs, she threw herself at him, hugging
him tight.
  "Ho ho ho," he said and handed her the present.  "Here 
you go, just for you.  Between just us, true?  A secret."
She nodded, like any good five year old.  Her heart was
once again full of cheer and hope, for her dreams were not
dead.  Santa was real.  Opening the present, she found inside
not much, but a necklace made out of bottle caps, shined
and changed.  It looked beautiful, and she was full of love
for it, never forgetting to wear it, like all good five year
olds.
  Santa gave her a wink and opened the front door.  She asked
why didn't he use the chimney.  "Ho ho ho, but I have other runs
to make.  I think my raindeer will just rest on your roof.  Is
that okay?"  Like any good five year old, she nodded.  And
with that, the magic was out the door.
  She never thought twice about Santa.  Never noticed his
hat was made out of a garbage bag with a cotton ball taped on
roughly.  That his suit was just an old coat given out
to all by the salvation army on the ship.  And the belt was
one that she had met her brother many of a time.  Nor did she
notice the light smell of the dirty body, or face that she
looked on so many of a time.  She was happy, full of cheer.
  As she went to bed, a skip and a hop in her step, she noticed
her stepdad was out.  Full of anger toward him for missing this,
for not being there.  How could he be out?  How could he miss
this?  Wearing the necklace, she went to bed, followed by
the sugar plums and candy canes.
  She never forgot this day, until she reached eight, learning
once and for all that Santa was fake.  As she grew, she
knew who it was, and the love for him swelled and they
established a relation worthy of father and daughter.  But
the necklace, given to her with such loving care, was forgotten,
as all bad seven year olds do.