Mary’s Son Read Online Free PDF

Stevens that the man truly thought he was Santa Claus. Yet it now appeared he did.
    Sarah didn’t hesitate for a moment. “No, you’re not!” she said flatly. “I heard what Miss Grundick said. I want you to tell me the truth. You are not Santa Claus,” she concluded.
    “Oh, yes…I am. Why do you say I’m not?”
    Sarah’s anger turned to haughtiness. If there was one thing she knew for a fact it was that there was no such thing, and she really needed to get past this issue quickly.
    “Because Santa Claus doesn’t exist,” she responded. “Everyone with any brains knows that.”
    “I certainly hope there aren’t many people with any brains then, because I wouldn’t have many believing in me,” Nicholas retorted.
    “There’s no such thing as Santa Claus!” Sarah said firmly. “You’re lying!” She turned away from Nicholas.
    Nicholas’s smile faded. It was not unusual for eleven-year olds to stop believing in Santa. Although that bothered him, Nicholas’s real concern was with the extreme intensity of Sarah’s feeling.
    “Of course there is, Sarah, and I’m him,” Nicholas said. “But for those who don’t believe in me, I can’t exist. I can help only those who believe. Why do you feel I don’t exist?”
    “You don’t…I mean you do.… But…you’re not Santa Claus. There’s no such person.” Sarah was flustered. Sheturned again and stared out her window, arms folded in front of her, angry. While Nicholas frowned sadly, Stevens tried to smile, knowing Nicholas had sealed his fate in the Stone employ. It was clear Sarah had nothing more to discuss with Nicholas. Stevens should have been happy that the little man—whatever his purpose—had destroyed any chance of prolonging his stay with the Stones. But, for some reason, he was not. The intensity of Sarah’s feeling on the subject surprised him. He had always loved Christmas and the hopes and wonders it brought to his youth. To see that Sarah, at such a young age, had none of those hopes made him feel some of the same sadness Nicholas’s face showed.

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    For Sarah, the mall was an escape. Living in a mansion as an only child surrounded by servants, cooks, maintenance workers, maids, and other adults intent on their household tasks left Sarah without any real human companionship. Because she went to a private school some distance from her home, she had no friends within easy access, and if the truth were told, even those at school with whom she had contact were not really friends at all. The occasional help like Brockton Smith, who was hired to keep her out of everyone else’s hair, provided her no friendship. The Brockton Smiths of her world weren’t there to listen to her problems or to advise her how one might deal with an issue or even join her in some fun activity. They were there simply to watch over her, make sure she was safe, discipline her where necessary, and always report the day’s events to Miss Grundick so she could assure Sarah’s father that Sarah was indeed active each day.
     
    Sarah loved her father, although not the way she did when she was little, of course. Then, she adored him. Now,she was too old for that. Jonas was her father, and she loved him the way all kids were supposed to love their fathers. If she gave the matter any thought, she figured her love changed because that was what happened when kids got older. After all, he changed, didn’t he? He was different than when she was younger. Back when her mother, Annie, was still alive, he was happy—fun too. He always wanted to hang out with Sarah and Annie. He liked that even more than work it seemed.
    When the drunk driver crossed into Annie’s lane and caused the collision that killed both drivers, Sarah was five years old. She remembered her daddy, as she called him at the time, crying a lot after that. She cried with him because mommy wasn’t coming home anymore, and even though she didn’t understand everything that happened, she did