Once upon a time Mommy was a very little girl.
She lived with her Mom and Dad (your Grandma and Grandpa) and Brother (your uncle) in a big white house. The big white house was far away from where we live now. It was so warm you could go to the beach all winter long. There were jungles in the mountains. And parrots squaking in the trees would wake you up in the morning. It was very beautiful and a fun place to live.
But one year, Mommy got very sick. The doctors tried to find out what was wrong, but they couldn't. And Mommy just stayed a sick little girl.
And Christmas was coming.
Mommy was going to be too sick to have a real Christmas. No sticky buns with sausage and juice. No running downstairs with her brother to tear thru the wrappings.
No, she was going to have to stay in bed and might not be allowed to stay home even. The doctor though she might have to go to the hospital and stay there.
But Christmas Eve, Mommy was still at home in her own bed and she had a visitor. Santa Claus!
Santa woke Mommy up because he wanted to give her a special Christmas present in person. He told her this present wasn't a new toy or a pretty new dress. It wasn't something from the Sears catalog or anything you could make.
No, this would be a special gift...
Mommy was going to be well on Christmas.
And because Santa Claus is really St. Nicholas, not just a man, he had the power to do this.
Mommy didn't say much. She was too amazed to see Santa, standing right there in front of her.
And he left. Mommy fell back to sleep.
And Christmas morning, Santa kept his word. Mommy was well. Just like that.