Adam Cartwright was working on the Ponderosa's ledgers when his six-year-old son, Abel, came up and took a seat in the chair across from him. The child was quiet until his father looked up. "What is it, Abel?"
"Papa, I have something to tell you - something important."
Adam put the pen down, and looked at the boy. "Well?" He waited, wondering what mischief the boy had gotten into and needed to confess.
Abel took a deep breath. "Papa, I don't believe in Santa!"
Adam leaned back in his chair, and thought for a minute. Then he stood up, and said, "Let's have some coffee and talk about this." He led the way to the kitchen, and poured two cups of coffee, stirring plenty of milk and sugar into the one for Abel. He sat down, handed his son his "coffee" and asked, "Why don't you believe in Santa?"
Abel straightened up in his chair, took a sip, and said, "Well, Papa, it's this way. We've been studying geography at school - Miss Rogers showed us her globe - and we've realized that an elf just can't handle all those stops in one night. So I've decided that there's no such person as Santa."
Adam sighed. He'd known this day was coming, but he'd hoped to put it off a little longer. Then he had an idea. "Well, Abel, I can see you've learned a lot this year and that's good. It means you're ready to become a Santa."
Abel's eyes widened. "I can be Santa?"
"Yep," Adam nodded. "It's an important job, and you can't tell anyone. You look around and see if there's someone here on the ranch or at school or at church who might need a little gift from Santa. Then tell me, and we'll work together on a special gift for that person."
Abel smiled at his father. "That sounds great, Papa."
"There's one more thing - you can't tell anyone, especially not the person you want to help. Understand?"
Abel nodded, "I understand, Papa."
"That's my good boy," Adam said. They finished their coffee and Abel ran off, eager to find someone who needed Santa.
Adam had forgotten their conversation when Abel approached him after supper a few days later. He, Julia, Ben, Joyce, and Joe were having their coffee in the great room when Abel came over to him and said, "Papa, I need to speak with you."
He sounded so serious everyone smiled, but Adam stood up and said, "Certainly, Abel." He followed the child into the kitchen and they sat down at the table.
"I've found someone who needs Santa, Papa."
For a minute Adam was confused, and then he remembered. "Oh, that's good, son. Who is it?"
"It's Mr. Davis, Papa. I saw him at church on Sunday, and he doesn't have any gloves. He was rubbing his hands and blowing on them. I think Santa should bring him a pair of gloves."
Adam sighed. Jim Davis was mean, and, according to Ben, had always been mean. He lived in a big house in town and seemed to be well off, but never gave anything to anyone. He merely grunted when people spoke to him, and had been known to fire a shotgun filled with salt at boys who tried to retrieve a ball from his yard. Why couldn't Abel have found a nice person who needed Santa? he wondered. Still, the boy had done as he'd said.
"All right, Abel, we'll get Mr. Davis a pair of gloves."
Abel smiled at him. "I have some money, Papa. I've been doing chores for Uncle Joe, and he paid me."
"All right, son, we'll go to town tomorrow and pick out a pair of gloves at the mercantile."
The next day Abel was up early, getting his regular chores done and breakfast eaten so he'd be ready to go to town. Adam took the boy up before him on his horse, and they rode to Cass's General Store. When they went inside, Sally Cass was behind the counter. "Good morning, Adam, how may I help you?"
"Abel is your customer today, Sally." He stepped back a little, pushing his son forward at the same time.
Sally smiled down at the little boy. "How may I help you, Abel?"
"I'd like to buy a pair of gloves for a man."
She turned and pulled out several pairs of men's gloves. Adam boosted Abel up to the counter, and they studied them together. "Papa, I think this black leather pair would be best. They've got a good lining, and it'll help keep his hands warm. How much are they, Miss Cass?"
Sally looked at the tag. "They're a quarter, Abel."
Abel thought for a minute. A quarter was a lot of money. It had taken him months to earn four of them. He was a Santa, though. He took out two dimes and a nickel and handed them over.
"Would you like them wrapped?" Susan asked.
"How much is that?" Abel asked.
She smiled. "It's free."
"Yes, please."
Sally wrapped the gloves, and handed Abel a card and a pen. Abel looked up at Adam. What was the card for?
"You can write who your is gift is for and who it came from Abel," Adam said.
Abel took the pen, and in his very best hand wrote,
"To Mr. Davis
Love Santa."
Sally slipped the card under the paper, and handed the package to Abel.
Abel and Adam left the store and walked up to Mr. Davis's house. The windows were dark, and no smoke came from the chimney. "What should we do, Papa?"
"We'll leave the package at the door, knock, and leave," Adam decided. And that was what they did.
The following Sunday Abel kept watch for Mr. Davis at church. When he came in, Abel noticed he was wearing a new pair of leather gloves. Abel pulled on his father's arm, and whispered, "Look, Papa, look!"
Adam noticed Mr. Davis and his gloves, and hugged his son close. He and Julia exchanged a smile over Abel's head, grateful their boy had had success his first time as Santa.