How I Learned About Santa Claus

This is the only picture I have of Darlene. This was a few years after we moved away from Bangor.

This is the empty corner lot where our house was. The little white house on the left edge of the picture is the house where Darlene's family lived. (This picture was taken in 1992. Our house had been torn down.)

My closest friend in early childhood was a neighbor who lived in the house behind us in Bangor, Michigan -- Darlene Hensley. She was my age. We were best friends, in spite of the fact that we argued a lot. She had two older sisters, Jimmie Nell and Frances. Her parents were transplants from down South. I remember us walking to town to buy penny candy at the smoke shop, and putting the water hose in the dirt and snaking a tunnel through the ground -- expecting to "dig to China". One of the arguments I had with Darlene was about whether or not Santa Claus was real. I marched her into my house, to get my mom to answer the question once and for all -- and, of course, my mom chose that moment to tell me the truth. Well, what else could she do? I was crushed, and more than that, upset about losing the argument! 

To compensate for my disappointment, the next Christmas my parents let me stay up late and help them put the Santa presents under the Christmas tree after my brother went to sleep. That made me feel better about Santa Claus not being real. That year for Christmas I got a doll (of course). It was the first “newborn” (stuffed cloth) baby doll I had had. I also got my first diary and my first chapter books – The Five Little Peppers and Heidi. I also got a toy gun and holster set. What more could a girl want?