Two Ciancanelli Christmas family stories. The first one is Santa Mouse. When the kids were little we used to take them to Stickles' store in Rhinebeck to buy their presents for the family. Each was given $10 and they would roam the store, seeking just the right gifts for their family and maybe a friend or two. One year Sabra brought herself a gift, a little mouse dressed like Santa. After shopping we went to Foster's to celebrate with lunch.

When we got home and opened the bags, no where was Santa Mouse to be found, it must have fallen out of the package in our travels. Sabra cried and I promised to go back to Rhinebeck and get another mouse as soon as possible. Well, it snowed for the next several days, and when we got to Stickles, there was no Santa Mouse left. I tried to talk her into another decoration, but she wanted Santa Mouse. "Let's go to Foster's for lunch," I said, trying to cheer her up, but she just gave me the "face", still off we went to Foster's. Crossing the street, I glanced in the gutter in front of the restaurant and something red caught my eye. I bent down, and sure enough, it was Santa Mouse, flattened from being run over and parked on, all wet from the snow. But Sabra was in heaven - I promised to dry him out and maybe I could make him a new coat, and I did. He still was flat, and certainly looked as if he been through what he had been through, but he was hung proudly on the Christmas tree, not only that year, but every year after that...The Santa Mouse miracle - found after all those days and how you can get what you want if you want it badly enough and believe.

The second story is Christmas Party at school. Paul was probably in first grade when the note came home that there was to be a party and each boy should buy a boy gift and each girl a girl gift to exchange on that day. The note indicated that the gift should be under $2. So Paul and I looked through Stickles, I being very careful to make sure the gift was close to $2 and finally settling on something that was $1.99. Proudly, I felt, that is as close as you can get under the limit. We wrapped it, labeled it "boy" and Paul took it to school on the last day before Christmas. I wondered if the boy who got the gift would like it, appreciate my generousity, going right to the limit. When Paul got home, I eagerly asked to see what he had received. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a beat up, worn matchbox car. "Is that it?" I asked disgusted that someone would wrap up something so old and scratched. "Yes,"he answered happily, "Jimmy gave it to me. It was his FAVORITE toy." I was taken aback. Boy, was my face red. Those little first graders had a better understanding of Christmas than I had. I wiped a tear, and told Paul that Jimmy was right, that is the BEST toy anyone can get. And like the grinch, I think my heart grew three sizes that day.