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THAT’S BARRIO: Pancho Claus

December 3, 2010

When I was little, if I had told my father that I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus, my father would’ve whooped Santa’s a$$ for sure, ‘cause my father definitely wasn’t Santa…he never got me sh1t.

One time my father was counting change on the table ‘cause he was dead broke and he asked me what I wanted for Christmas.

I thought to myself, “This boy can’t be serious.”

“Go ahead, mijo, what do you want?”

I thought about it… “I want a bike, a train set, a baseball glove and a TV — and a new house.”

“Is that it?”

I stared at his change…“Yeah that’s it.”

He gathered his change, smiled and messed up my hair, “Go to sleep, see what you have in the morning.”

I went to sleep, woke up the next morning…Christmas morning!

My father was asleep on the couch with an empty alcohol bottle in his hand, but there was a terribly-wrapped present in front of the Christmas tree I had drew on the wall.

I would’ve decorated the tree with more red ornaments, but I had run out of red chalk.

I ran to the present, reached for it and hit my face against the tree, but it didn’t tip over, that’s what’s good about drawing a Christmas tree on the wall.

I shook the present, unwrapped it and the shattered pieces of a broken piggy bank and a note fell to the ground.

The note read, “I’m sorry I broke your piggy bank to get to your change, mijo, but one day…I promise…I love you.”

*A kid’s piggy bank and his materialist dreams might be shattered, but please don’t shatter his heart.  Explaining to him/her why things can or cannot be and telling them “I love you” will mend those broken materialistic pieces and dreams, but most of all, keep the little heart intact.

Happy holidays, everyone.


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