The Scariest Christmas

Posted: December 5, 2015 in The Supernatural

This is a story that I’ve told several times over the years, and folks are usually scary-santa1either interested, dumbstruck or skeptical. Actually I’d say 70% skeptical, but for the life of me I can’t imagine a reason for making something this weird up.

Believe me, what you are about to read is true . . .

Before we begin you need to know that my older cousin John lived across the street from us with his parents and twin sisters when I was a kid, and he was always playing tricks on me. Trust me, this will be relevant to the story in a few minutes.

It was Christmas morning sometime in the mid-60’s, and my sisters and I had awakened in the pre-dawn hours to open our presents. We were all sitting on the floor, tearing open our gifts, awash in the Christmas spirit.

Then, as I was opening a present I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Our front door had a small, diamond shaped window on it, and as I looked up I saw a face pressed against the glass, looking down at me from about 20-feet away. I laughed, certain that it was John coming over to see our presents.

I jumped up excitedly, went to the door and opened it, but nobody was there. Still laughing, I ran across the street in the freshly fallen snow thinking it was cousin John messing with me. The twins were up too so I went in the front door and asked where he’d gone, only to told he was still in bed. Skeptical, I ran into his room but sure enough, there he lay sleeping.

At that point I still thought he had simply run home and was pretending to sleep, but something told me to go back outside and check something out. I did and there, in the snow, was just one set of tracks.

Of course the track were mine, leading from our house to theirs.

I remember standing there sort of in shock, disbelieving what I was seeing.

I went back home and, since nobody else had seen what I had seen, my family sort of shook their heads and moved on with Christmas.

What the hell had I seen that morning? To this day I just don’t know.

And as I write this I swear to you that I can still see that face, sort of pressed and distorted against the window pane, looking down at me.

Chills, man.

I once recounted this story to a 4th grade class. As I finished, there was a hush among the students as they sat in wide-eyed wonderment. Then, in the back a little girl’s hand went up. Then the following exchange happened:

“Yes, Kelly?”

“Maybe it was Santa Claus.

Why of course it was. Why hadn’t I thought of that?


Gimme a holler.

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