The Very Best Gift by CONNIE NEAL Page B

Christmas?” Saint Nick asked her.
     
    I asked one of the elves to help me get Santa’s attention.
     
    Casey’s answer came without hesitation, “I want a Teddy Ruxpin. He can talk and he can sing.”
     
    While Casey’s back was turned away from me, her earnest little face toward Santa, I caught his eye and shook my head, NO! , silently letting him know that she was not going to get Teddy Ruxpin. The look of panic on my face seemed to be a language Santa understood. I dare say I was not the only parent that year who could not afford the hyped and coveted Teddy Ruxpin. Santa caught on. He smiled down at Casey and said,
     
    “Well, I’m sure you will like whatever I bring you because I will bring a special little girl like you something special.”
     
    Sigh!
     
    The elves snapped the photograph. We received the copies of the photo for the grandparents and moved on, with Casey waving back at Santa. As we walked away – Casey’s chubby little hand in mine – I tried to explain to a precocious two-year-old that Santa might not be able to afford Teddy Ruxpin either. It sounded lame even to me.
     
    On the night before Christmas we came home late after a youth event. Casey had become like the mascot of our youth group and was fawned over by the teens, so she came with us. We turned on the lights adorning our modest tree, looking at the place where the gifts from Santa were sure to appear before morning. Casey was SO EXCITED! Pat and I were happy and excited too, enjoying the anticipation. Casey hadn’t mentioned Teddy Ruxpin in days, so maybe it would be fine like Patrick assured me it would be.
     
    While Patrick retrieved Casey’s gifts and the wrappings from their hiding place – we waited until the last minute – I hurried to tuck Casey into bed, planning to keep her bedtime prayers brief. So I dressed her in her Christmas-themed nightgown, tucked her in, and said a cursory prayer. But Casey piped up before I could say, “Amen!”
     
    She added, “Dear God, I know Santa can’t afford a Teddy Ruxpin. But you can. Please give me a Teddy Ruxpin. He can talk and he can sing. Amen.”
     
    When I opened my eyes, she was smiling and giggling.
     
    I closed the door to her room with tears in my eyes. I found Patrick unrolling the Christmas wrapping paper around the box for the bedtime tent. He asked me what was wrong, so I told him.
     
    He said, “Just get the other gifts down. We have to wrap them. Don’t worry, hon. She’s only two; she won’t ever remember what gifts she got.” So I started wrapping, but the joy was gone.
     
    “Maybe I shouldn’t have taught her to pray while she is so young. What do you think this will do to her faith in God?”
     
    “Connie,” Pat said in a tired voice, “Please, just wrap her gift. We still have stockings to fill.”
     
    I took the Snoopy step-stool box down from the closet shelf where I had been hiding it. I read on the box that the eyes and nose were decals that had to be applied manually. Well, even though I couldn’t give my daughter a Teddy Ruxpin, I could make sure I didn’t give her a blind Snoopy with no nose! So , I removed the tape that secured the lid and opened the box.
     
    I was staggered to find that the box did not hold a Snoopy step-stool but a Teddy Ruxpin. I gasped, lifting the prayed-for bear out of the box. There below where Teddy had been, I found enough new batteries to power him and two cassette tapes.
     
    I sputtered and may have screamed, “Pat, look!”
     
    He was as shocked and confused as I .
     
    “Did you steal that?” he asked.
     
    “No! I didn’t steal it! I found it in the Snoopy step-stool box.”
     
    He grabbed the box and looked inside.
     
    I said, “I don’t know how it got in there. That’s not right. I should probably return it, huh?”
     
    Pat said, “You can’t return it. Gemco has been out of business for weeks now.”
     
    Bewildered and with tears of joy and amazement in our eyes, Patrick tucked