A New Christmas Tradition!

A new Holland Family Christmas Tradition was born tonight.

After making our favorite Chocolate-covered Cherry Christmas Cookies as a family activity tonight Matt Shared the follwing story with us.

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: “There is no Santa Clause,” she jeered. “Even dummies know that!”

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. “No Santa Clause!” she snorted. “Ridiculous! Don’t believe it. That rumor has been going around for years and it makes me mad—plain mad. Now put on your coat and let’s go.” “Go? Go where, Grandma?” I asked. I hadn’t even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun.

“Where” turned out to be Kerby’s General Store. The one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. “Take this money,” she said, “and buy something for someone who needs it. I’ll wait for you in the car.” Then she turned and walked out of Kerby’s.

I was only eight years old. I’d often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded—full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments, I just stood there, confused and clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when suddenly I thought of Bobby Decker.

Bobby Decker was a kid with bad breath and messy hair who sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock’s second grade class. Bobby Decker didn’t have a coat. I knew that because he never went outside for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note telling the teacher that he had a cough, but we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn’t have a cough, and he didn’t have a coat.

I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy coat with a red hood. It looked real warm and he would like that.

“Is this a Christmas present for someone?” the lady behind the counter asked kindly as I laid my ten dollars down. “Yes,” I replied shyly, “It’s…for Bobby.” The nice lady smiled at me. I didn’t get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and wrote, “To Bobby, From Santa Clause” on the package. Grandma explained that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker’s house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa’s helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby’s house and she and I crept noiselessly toward the bushes near his front walk where Grandma hid. I took a deep breath, dashed to his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven’t dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering beside my Grandma in Bobby Decker’s bushes.

That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Clause were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

In Grandma’s Bible I also discovered that we were another team. A bigger and better one. A team led by someone who died to give me new life. Someone my Grandma knew well.

These truths have changed my life. Since then, as Christmas approaches and all year through, I keep my eyes peeled for the Bobby Deckers.

I still have my Grandma’s Bible. I still read from it. And inside, I still have the tag from Kerby’s General Store for Bobby Decker’s coat. It reads $19.95.

Jesus is like the cashier?” Grant asked. “Yep,” I told him. And the little girl was bringing a gift to someone in need, just like Santa Clause.
All Jesus needs is for good-hearted people here on earth to think about and act kindly toward their Heavenly brothers and sisters. His sacrifice makes up the difference when all that we can offer is the ten-dollar bill.


Who is the little boy, then?” Grant asked. “I think we all are.”


Each year on the 13th of December, the Holland Family will make their favorite Chocolate-covered Cherry Christmas cookies and read the story about Bobby Decker and his red corduroy coat. We’ll use the evening to remind ourselves about the true Spirit of Christmas and designate a person or family to receive a special gift.