The Miracle on 34th Street Read Online Free PDF

Kringle.
    Kriss Kringle?
    "Hello, Mrs. Walker," Kringle said
    Dorey tried to smile. "Hello, Mr. Kringle."
    Susan was grinning from ear to ear. "Nobody at school's going to believe this one, huh?"
    "If you have to have a baby-sitter," Bryan said with a nervous smile, "who's better qualified?"
    Dorey kept her silent smile. She had to. If she let it down for a moment, she might scream.
    She didn't say another word until she and Bryan left the building and were heading downtown in a taxi.
    "It was Susan's idea," said Bryan. "I just think she wanted to have something good to talk about in school, that's all. Having Santa Claus baby-sit for you is a pretty hot topic. If you're angry, I understand."
    Dorey stared out the taxi window. "It's okay," she said. "I'm just a little nervous. Kriss isn't the most normal man in the city."
    "You're right." Bryan chuckled. "He doesn't lie, cheat, or steal."
    Dorey laughed.
    She was feeling more relaxed now. The lights of Times Square, the shop windows, the happy families arm in arm—the sights of the season were lifting Dorey's spirits.
    Bryan had picked a cozy restaurant for dinner. Afterward they went skating at the rink in Central Park.
    As they glided around the rink, holding hands, Christmas carols played on speakers around them.
    One by one, the skaters began singing along. A policeman, looking over the rink, joined in. Then a group of tourists. A chestnut vendor. A street sweeper.
    Before long the entire rink area was a sweet chorus.
    Bryan was among them, singing his heart out.
    And so was Dorey.
    It was that kind of night.
    In Dorey's apartment, Susan lay under her sheets. For eleven days she'd been dying to tell Kriss Kringle her deepest wish. To test whether he was real.
    But now that Kringle was there, she was clamming up. What if he and her mom were in this together? She'd tell Mr. Kringle her wish, and he'd be sure not to get it for her, just to prove he wasn't real.
    "There has to be something you want for Christmas," Kringle said. "You know, I'm very good at keeping secrets."
    Susan looked deeply into his eyes.
    Oh, well. What did she have to lose?
    She got out of bed and took a locked box from her desk drawer. Opening it, she carefully removed a folded photo she'd ripped from a Cole's catalog.
    In the photo was a happy family, sitting on the porch of a house. A father, a mother, and a girl about Susan's age were smiling at each other as if someone had told a great joke. On the father's lap sat a chubby-cheeked baby boy.
    She handed the photo to Kringle. "That's what I want for Christmas," she said softly. "A house. A baby brother. A dad. That's all I ever want. If you're really Santa Claus, you can get it for me. If you can't, you're only a nice man with a white beard, like my mother says."
    Kriss Kringle was staring at the photo. Susan couldn't be sure, but she thought she could see his eyes moisten.
    "Susan, just because every child doesn't get his or her wish, doesn't mean there isn't a Santa Claus."
    "I thought you might say that." Susan looked at the floor. "Well, I don't think I'll ever get those things, so it's no big deal."
    "May I keep this picture?" Kringle asked.
    "Sure."
    Kriss Kringle folded the photo up again and said good night. As he backed out of the room and dimmed the light, Susan felt herself drifting into sleep.
    "A family for Christmas," she mumbled to herself. "I don't think so."
    Bryan and Dorey strolled home, loaded with gift bags. Beneath the clear, star-flecked sky, Christmas lights twinkled on the lampposts.
    "Was that so bad?" Bryan asked.
    "I had a great time," Dorey said dreamily. "I should have listened to you earlier. You're a very patient man, Bryan. Most guys are gone after a few moments of me. I guess I'm very . . . careful in my life. I don't need to be disappointed."
    Disappointed . The sound of that word hit Bryan hard. He knew what Dorey meant. She didn't want to get married to someone who would leave her.
    Like her first husband