My wife and I were exhausted after taking our grandkids, Lauren and Drew, to the
historic Irvine Park Railroad for the day.
Activities included the petting zoo, pony rides, playground swings and most especially the train ride through Christmas
Village.

After our traditional Christmas Eve dinner celebration and lots of family stories, we coaxed the sleepy 5 year old twins to bed with the promise of an exciting day ahead – stockings stuffed with gifts and meeting up with relatives and friends at church.

As an habitual early riser, I quietly went downstairs around 2:00 am to ponder the blessings of another Christmas.
I was not alone. Drew was sitting on the sofa staring intently at the stockings hung on the fireplace mantel and the Nativity Manger we had given them when they were born.

I mistakenly assumed Drew was planning on catching Santa when he came down the chimney to deliver presents and enjoy the cookies and coke left on the table for him.

With the wisdom of someone way beyond his years, my grandson whispered in my ear, “ Grampa, I know… “smiling mischievously… “ I know that Mom and Dad put the presents in our Stockings.
But don’t tell Lauren because she still thinks it’s Santa.”

Out of the mouths of babes we often see the light ..

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