by Julie Sullivan
It was Christmas Eve night, and Aurora, who was seven years old, was wide awake. She was holding onto her detective notebook and had a flashlight, in addition to wearing some fuzzy socks that somehow made her feel sneaky. What was her mission? She was going to catch Santa red-handed. Bryce, her little brother, who was five years old, was also wide awake. Bryce’s reason for being awake was much simpler than Aurora’s was. “I want to watch him eat the cookies we helped to make,” Bryce whispered gently, taking a peek out from under his blanket. “We made Santa the best cookies. They have sprinkles on them.” Aurora nodded and smiled at her little brother. “We will look at the fireplace. I think that is how he will get into the house.”
“But how will he do that? We don’t have a chimney,” Bryce asked curiously. Aurora did pause and then respond. “Exactly, this is what makes it a real mystery. How does Santa get inside each house?”
Both kids decided to tiptoe downstairs, being careful not to make any noise, which would wake up their Mom and Dad. The tree sparkled beautifully in the corner of the living room, and a plate of cookies sat on a coffee table beside a large glass of milk.
Aurora and Bryce curled up on the couch together, their eyes very wide, with hearts thumping in excitement.
The minutes passed quickly.
Then the time changed into an hour.
Then___
Whoosh!
A swirl of glitter and snowflakes filled the room, and suddenly, standing in front of the tree, was a man in red with twinkling eyes and a snowy beard.
“Santa!” Bryce gasped.
Aurora dropped her notebook.
Santa chuckled. “Well, well. Two little night owls.”
“We wanted to see how you get in,” Aurora said.
“And I wanted to see if you liked our cookies,” Bryce added.
Santa smiled at the children and took a seat in the armchair. “I do love cookies. My favorites are the ones with all the sprinkles on them. I cannot deliver any presents while boys and girls are still awake.”
Aurora made a frown. “Why not?”
“It is part of the magic of Christmas,” Santa explained. “Gifts only come when kids are dreaming sweet dreams.”
Bryce yawned a bit. “But I’m not sleepy.”
Santa reached down into his sack and pulled out a book. “Then maybe I can read you a story. It will be one that will help your eyes to get heavy and your heart to feel hot and comfy.”
Santa read Aurora and Bryce about snow bears, candy cane forests,
a reindeer who wore pajamas, and elves who built notable bedtime forts. His voice was soft and deep, like a lullaby wrapped in peppermint.
Aurora did her best to stay alert, but her eyelids began to droop.
Bryce curled up beside her, his beloved stuffed rabbit tucked under one arm.
Santa closed the book very gently. “Sleep tight, little detectives.” He
then touched each child’s head, one by one, and then did a quick wink and a nod. He stood up and vanished into a swirl of glittering snow.
The next morning, Aurora and Bryce woke up in their beds; the cookies were gone, and the milk glass was empty. Waiting under the tree were some presents for them.
Aurora found her notebook lying beside her pillow. Inside it was a note:
“Dear Aurora, You’re a very clever girl, but I must say, even detectives need their rest. Merry Christmas to you and Bryce. Lots of love, Santa.”
Bryce found a sprinkle cookie tucked inside his stocking.
The boy grinned. “Santa liked them.”
Aurora smiled happily. “He came.”
And from that Christmas on, the sister and brother always left a book beside the cookies, just in case Santa wanted to read to them again.
