The Real Santa

  Photo Credit: A Mixed Bag 2004

He didn’t have one of those gross stick-on beards, and he even spoke Spanish to the little girl three kids up. That could only mean one thing. He just might be the “real” Santa.

Hannah would know for sure soon. The real Santa would know her name, without her telling it, of course.

When Hannah’s turn came, Santa bellowed,. “Ho ho ho! Aren’t you a pretty girl. What’s your name?”

Hannah scowled. Just as she had suspected. An imposter! She stood her ground. She wasn’t about to share her secret wish with a fake Santa!

But Santa was a wise old elf. He had faced this test before. So intent was Hannah’s stare down that she hardly noticed his split second glance toward her Mom who mouthed, “Hannah,” from behind.

With a twinkle in his eye, tilting his head, Santa finally said, “Hmmmm…I believe you are Hannah. Am I right?”

Delighted, Hannah hopped onto Santa’s lap and whispered her secret wish in his ear. It would most certainly come true. Santa’s wink and nod at Hannah’s mom assured it.

kat ~ 22 December 2015
(182 Words)

This story is in response to Sunday Photo Fiction’s Weekly Challenge. To read more stories or enter your own based on the photo prompt above, click HERE.

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