was around christmas time and I caught my mom putting stuff in my
stocking. At first I was a litte confused and to be homest shocked. My heart
dropped to my knees and i slowly walked back to my room. The next
morning I got up and pretended that I never saw my mom with the presents.
For some reason I felt like I would be in trouble if i questioned my mom
about Santa Claus. A few days went by and I had to find out if Santa Clause
was real. That afternoon I was helping my Dad unload wood for the stove
and I asked him what the truth was. He never said yes of no, he just asked
whether or not i thought Santa was true. In a way he left it up to me to
descide what the truth was. The weird thing was, that I chose to stop
believing and to this day, I don't know why.
