Well this pretty much concluded my semester of writing for English 101,but I still had many unanswered questions, and me never being one to leave well enough alone. I continued the assignment. Writing a paper I knew know one would read. Even though I was thirty years old and it was twenty seven years since I'd seen my mother, I had uncovered a clue in my last assignment and I had to solve the riddle. After considerable thought I started to flash back to a time when I was three years old.

It was close to Christmas time and I was Christmas shopping with my foster mother. We were in some mall somewhere in Nassau County and there was a long line for Santa Clause. Mom wanted to know what I wanted for Christmas. I guess in order to get me to think about it and say it out loud I had to wait in line. So I did wait for a considerable amount of time. I was told that Santa was some kind of magical being that could grant me what ever I wanted for Christmas. So to me it was like a prayer, I was offering my prayer to Santa, and I offered the same prayer to every wishing well I passed, and every birthday cake I blew out, and every time I got dragged into a church.

The Line was long and I remember it well for some reasons. I had to pee and was holding it in. Mom tried to drag me away a few times saying we would do it later, but I wasn't budging. I had to see Santa. I was desperate. I would eventually pee in my pants but, I got to see Santa. I got on his lap and I still remember the smell of stale beer on his breath mixed with the scent of my urine.

"HO, HO, HO, little boy what would you like for Christmas?" Santa said.

"Can you really give me what ever I want for Christmas?", I asked.

"Of course I can." he said.

He was probably thinking what could a three year old boy want for Christmas that could not be bought.

"I would like my mother to come back." I replied.

He looked over at my foster Mother and just said. "You have this fine woman right here."

"She's not my real mom",I said.

I could see Santa had a concerned look on his face and that it was a pretty tall order. Then he asked me," Well isn't there anything else you might want?"

" A big red fire truck!" I said. I guess I figured if I couldn't get my mom back, at least I wouldn't go away empty handed.

I remember getting my big red fire truck and playing with it next to the tree that Christmas.

It was one of the few times I remember being happy. I mean truly being happy since my mother had left me. I think that truck gave me hope that there was magic in the world and that all things were truly possible.

I would be lieing if I said i was'nt dissapointed a little, but I believed in Santa and in God and I new my wish would come true.

And I still believe they are, truly.