Santa always came in a different ways to our parties. Once he came in a sled pulled by Husky dogs, and another year he came in a helicopter. Whenever I saw a helicopter after that I always looked up to see if Santa was in it. I thought he might be checking on me to see if I was being naughty or nice.
My sisters and I could tell from year to year if they had hired a different Santa from the one the year before. We didn’t worry about all the Santas; we just figured that Santa had many helper “Santas” who went around making appearances for Santa since he was so busy. One year, though, the Santa was dressed so well, and he “Ho hoed” so authentically that my sisters and I speculated that it must have been the REAL Santa Clause. He even had big boots that laced half way up his leg. So we figured that once in a great while we were privileged enough to see the real one.
Except for the time we picked Santa up on the bus, he usually didn’t make his appearance until a few hours after the party had started, which gave us time to enjoy the other attractions. After the bus ride as soon as I could get my sled off the bus, I was down the hill.
The ride down the hill was great. It was so fast. When my sled would come to a stop, I would try to make it go farther by pushing on the snow with my hands and redistributing my weight. Finally I realized I was finished with my ride and I had to start climbing back up.
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