AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I posted this story many years ago, but this holiday season I have updated it, and hopefully it is now a little bit better than the original version dreamed up by my much younger self. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and that it will get you in the holiday spirit!

CHAPTER 1: A TALE TOLD ON THE SCHOOL BUS

Once upon a time there were two families, the McGuires and the Gordons. The McGuires were a happy, sometimes frivolous family, and the parents, Sam and Jo, loved to shower their children with gifts at Christmas. They could have given all these gifts in their own name, but as their parents had done for them, and their parent's parents before them, they delighted in carrying out the tradition of Santa Claus. At seven and four years old, Lizzie and Matt McGuire were therefore firm believers in Santa Claus.

The Gordons, on the other hand, were a more serious-minded family. The parents, Howard and Roberta, had agreed on their first date that if they ever got married and decided to have children, they would raise those children to be level-headed, mature and sensible individuals. Thus, each year for Hanukkah, their only son David received from them a series of eight very sensible and educational gifts: socks, underwear, chemistry sets, jigsaw puzzles and board games designed to increase his cognitive skills. He received nothing from Santa Claus.

David was taught not to believe in Santa Claus. Despite what some people may have thought, this decision had nothing to do with Howard and Roberta being Jewish, and everything to do with them both being practicing psychiatrists. Thus David—who had been adorably nicknamed "Gordo" by his little friend Lizzie McGuire—had, the moment he first mouthed the word "Santa," known with absolute certainty that no such person actually existed.

While Mr. and Mrs. Gordon did not want their offspring entertaining the foolish notion of Santa Claus, they respected the rights of other parents to let their children indulge in fantasy. Thus, young David, when told there was no Santa Claus had also been instructed not to share this knowledge with any of his peers. It was a heavy burden for a seven-year-old child to bear, especially during the December holidays.

Lizzie and Gordo (that is: David) had known each other forever, as their mothers had been "roommates" in the hospital when they were born, one day apart. Till now, Gordo had faithfully followed his parents' instructions not to divulge the truth about Santa Claus to others, but this year, for reasons he did not completely understand, he was having a difficult time.

Perhaps it was because his status as the second-grade genius was now being challenged by a new boy in class, Larry Tudgeman, who was obviously just as smart as he was. Gordo found himself in fierce competition with "Tudge," as the boy was known, and had developed a habit of never missing an opportunity to prove himself a bigger "know-it-all."

So that cool December afternoon, on the bus ride home from school, when Lizzie finally ceased chattering with Kate Sanders long enough to turn to Gordo and ask, "So, Gordo, what are you going to ask Santa to bring you this year?" Gordo could not help but roll his eyes and, almost before he knew what he was doing, spit out "Don't be preposterous, Lizzie!" Preposterous was one of the new words he and his father had recently encountered in their nightly perusal of the dictionary, and Gordo was using it every chance he got. "Lizzie, oh, Lizzie," he went on with an air of superiority. "Don't you know there's no such thing as Santa Claus?"

Lizzie gasped. "Gordo! Why would you say such a horrible thing?"

"Cos it's true," Gordo answered.

"It is not!" Lizzie insisted, gasping again.

"It is too," Gordo persisted, already regretting what he had done.

It is NOT!" Lizzie repeated adamantly.

Rats! Gordo thought with a cringe.What have I gotten myself into?He wished he'd never started this. But it was too late to turn back now.