I was about 7 years old, when I heard Santa Claus.
It was late on Christmas Eve and I could hear my parents fighting--they were more arguing than fighting, but for a kid it sounded liked a fight.
On the roof, I remember hearing what sounded like hoofs. Hoofs that blended with trees rustling with the outside wind.
Then suddenly the door slammed. I jumped out of bed and ran to the window but could only see the streetlight and the quiet neighborhood.
My dad ran into my room and asked what happened. I explained I heard Santa Claus. Curious, he looked outside too and called out to mom.
We all came out of my room and went to the door, but no sign of Santa. Then we turned to the living room and saw the many presents under the Christmas tree. He did arrive and even enjoyed the milk and cookies I left.
Excited to see all the presents, my parents started a tradition of opening one present Christmas Eve. We all did. I don't remember what I opened first, but I do remember going back to bed eager to wake up the next morning to open the rest.
