Prologue
Willa
Five Years Old
A unt Trixie, Grammy’s best friend, places an apron around my neck and then ties it behind my back. It has a gingerbread man and a gingerbread girl holding hands on the front and matches the ones that she and Grammy are wearing.
Daddy bought it for me at the Christmas market. It came with my very own rolling pin and cookie cutters too.
“Grammy, how does Santa know where to find us?” I ask.
“He knows the address where all the boys and girls live,” she answers.
I wrinkle my nose. “Some of the boys and girls don’t live here in Lake Mistletoe. They just visit us, but we made a stocking for them all for Santa to fill.”
We are making cookies for Santa. I’m standing on the chair between her and Aunt Trixie, adding the eggs as Grammy mixes the dough.
Mommy was supposed to help us, but she was really tired after the market, and Daddy carried her up to bed. She wants to be rested for all the visitors tomorrow.
Grammy stops the mixer and looks down at me. “You’re right, my bright girl. They don’t live here, but Santa knows that they are here on Christmas Eve. You remember the song that says he sees you when you’re sleeping and he knows when you’re awake ? Well, he also knows where you’re sleeping, and no matter where they are, he always visits the children on the Nice list.”
“He does?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she affirms.
“How does he know?”
“Well, that, my sweet Willa, is the same way he remembers what each and every good boy and girl asked for. It’s Christmas magic,” she explains.
Christmas magic .
I hope Santa got my letter this year and uses his Christmas magic to make my wish come true.