Christmas Eve story ~ about my baby brother

Here's the story I promised to tell you on Christmas Eve about my favorite holiday tradition.  It's about my baby brother, who is nine years younger than I am.  This story takes place in 1964, the first Christmas after our dad died in traffic.  In other words, it was the first Christmas without Daddy.  Jim was 15 and facing a difficult Christmas morning alone at home with Mom, so we invited him to our house, where he could take part in our family tradition of letting a child fill the family's stockings when they had learned about Santa.  Jim, of course, was long past the usual age, but as the last child, he had never gotten to fill anyone's stocking.

Jim, who was in sixth grade when the girls were born, enjoyed being an uncle.  Our twin daughters were four that year, and our son was only a year old.  After the little ones were in bed, Jim had great fun stuffing their three stockings plus one for himself that we provided:  small toys, apples, oranges, nuts, more little toys.  But the real fun came the next morning.

He ooh'd and aah-d over every item the children took out of their Christmas stockings, enjoying their happy faces and the squealing.  Then the twins realized he hadn't pulled anything out of his stocking.

"Do it, Uncle Jim!" they chorused.  And he did.

He ooh'd over the little items he'd put in his own stocking the night before.  He was appropriately "surprised" by all the small items "Santa" had brought him.  He was hamming it up in his new role as an actor.  I had the camera ready as he reached the bottom of his stocking, and his hand closed over something he didn't recognize.  The look of surprise on his face was perfect when he pulled out the nice watch he had been wanting.

Getting to play Santa is such fun!

There's more.

Jim, shown here with one of his grandchildren, is now 62 years old and looks a lot more like the "real" Santa Claus.  This summer, after my laptop was stolen, Jim and his wife Carol took me shopping for a new one.  They and my other brother, Bill, bought me the laptop I'm using right now to type this Christmas story.  Jim's still acting a lot like Santa, if you ask me.  (I love you, little brother.)