To: SummahRocks

From: Your Secret Santa

Augusta, Maine

December 24th, 1966

Mikayla had been a good girl this year. That's what the doctors had said. And as long as she was good all the time, she could have a cot of her very own in a big room with so many other little girls her age.

She had never been happier. Well, not since before...

Mikayla used to have a lovely home by the ocean, in Bristol, Maine. Her father wore a suit and tie. Her mother wore red lipstick and had soft blond ringlets. Those perfect curls would get a little wild during their walks to the beach. But she didn't seem to mind.

They used to collect pretty seashells together. The water was so cold on her toes, she remembered. But she loved it anyway. She always got far more wet than she should have.

Mikayla was a good girl then, too, and her parents loved her. She was a good listener, as much as a girl of four could be. She understood almost everything her parents, doctors, and teachers said. But she could never come up with words of her own.

Everyone was waiting, hoping, praying, searching. And then bad teacher arrived. Mikayla didn't remember all the hurtful things bad teacher said and did to her.

She didn't complain. She couldn't. And she only cried at night.

Then, there came a day came when she was really mad. She kicked bad teacher and bit bad teacher.

Mikayla stopped going to school. Her parents were sad, but they forgave her. They still loved her.

Until December...

It was like a bad dream. The Christmas tree fell. Ornaments shattered. There was a fat man in her home who had a crooked nose and a funny hat. Was he Santa Claus? Certainly not. He was making her mother cry. Her father yelled and told him to leave.

Mikayla hid under the bed, but she couldn't escape the noise, even when she covered her ears.

And then...

She couldn't remember the rest.

Not until...

She handed the man in the blue hat the knife when he asked for it. Wasn't that nice of her?

Apparently not. The Maine Insane Asylum was a place for bad girls and she was so very bad. That's what everyone had said.

And maybe they were right. Because Santa didn't come that year.

Was she a mean, rotten girl two years ago? She didn't think so. If only she remembered more...

When Mikayla started talking at age six, she told her doctors about the man with the crooked nose and the funny hat. She did the best she could with what she remembered and the words she knew.

But no one believed her.

And now, it was Christmas Eve night, again. She was seven now. And just in case there was any hope that Santa would change his mind about her and the nice boys and girls on her floor, she did everything in her power not to cry. But it was hard. She missed her mother and father very much.

It was also so cold, even under her blanket and sheet. They lost both the power and the heat.

Was the snow to blame? Mikayla dashed to the window. She scratched through the thin sheet of ice for a peek.

It had been snowing all day. A blizzard, the nurses had said. It looked as if it had been snowing all night too. The world was white as far as she could see. And it was snowing so hard, she couldn't see far at all.

Could this be why Santa is late?

And then came a zap. There was a flash of light in the corner of the room.

Mikayla dove back into bed and covered her head with the blanket. She only dared to look with one eye.

There was another spark. Josie had a new scarf draped over her sleeping form and a new doll tucked beneath her arm.

Another flash. Emily had a new pair of shoes and a toy train by the foot of her bed.

It must be Santa! He moved closer. But he wasn't a he, he was a she! And she wasn't hefty and jolly. She was thin, delicate, and graceful—the most beautiful creature Mikayla had ever seen.

You're not Santa, you're not Santa, you're not Santa, she chanted to herself as the magical creature moved closer.

Then, she took a gulp, sat up, and said the words out loud, just as the Christmas elf was approaching her bed.

"Sorry to break it to you, my dear, but Santa isn't coming."

Mikayla lowered her head and nodded. "Oh, I understand. We weren't good this year."

"It's not you. It's not your friends, either. It's the man in red. He broke a sleigh runner on this roof years ago. Ever since, he's being such an old man about this place. And the blizzard isn't helping..." The elf sighed when her gaze met Mikayla's, no doubt getting a sense of her disappointment. "I know. That doesn't sound like Santa. And let's just say he and I had a difference of opinion on the matter. That's why I'm here and he's not."

"I hope you didn't get into too much trouble."

"He'll move past it. And thanks for your concern," she added brightly, crouching down to Mikayla's eye level. "I don't care what they say about you, little miss. You're all right! Is there anything you'd like for Christmas?"

Mikayla had to think about that for a few seconds. It had been so long since anyone asked her such a question.

Let's see...

She had holes in her nightgown and shoes, and her blanket too. But she could live with that. If she couldn't bring her mother and father back, she hoped that at least...

"I wish someone would believe me. And, if you have any connections with whoever lives upstairs, can you tell my parents that I love them?"

The elf stood. "I'll see what I can do. But, there's something you should know about me; there's what I can do and what I can do better."

At that, she flicked her staff. And in a flash of white light, the elf was gone.

🎄🎄🎄

The next morning, there was a giant Christmas tree in the vestibule that wasn't there before. There were presents for every boy and girl. Almost. Mikayla didn't have any to open. But that was okay. Most of her friends did. And if the Christmas elf granted Mikayla's wish, even just a tiny part of it, she was happy with that.

Then, while in line on her way to breakfast, a doctor approached her with a clipboard in hand. "Mikayla, can I speak with you in my office?"

She nodded and followed. Her head was down on the walk over. This can't be good.

But then, upon entering, a woman rose from her chair. She looked so very much like . . . her mother? She had her eyes and smile, and yes, she was smiling. It was so enchanting and strange. Adults never looked at her like that.

"Mikayla, this is your aunt, Rachel. I've signed your release and she's agreed to take you home with her."

Aunt Rachel opened her arms and said, "It's so nice to finally meet you. Merry Christmas!"

Mikayla crashed into her aunt's embrace. Elves really did do Christmas better.  

🎅🏻 Thank you for reading! Tomorrow is the big day. It's almost time to reveal our Santas. We hope to see you at the party! 🎅🏻