My Dad knew St Nicholas....Oh, it's not like they were best friends or anything. But my father knew all about him. And this is his story. On Christmas Eve, A father tells his child about the spiritual roots of St Nicholas. The heart warming journey of a kindly man who found that giving was a pathway to God's love. Prologue Even now, the memory stirs my heart. I remember the drifts of snow of the fire... and a night that was alive with Christmas that carpeted the world outside our window... and the rainbow glow of ornaments blending with the quiet warmth magic... But even more I recall the feeling of peace that settled upon us, as I snuggled close to my dad ... and we whispered our gentle secrets. My thoughts had lingered on the coming of Christmas. But my gaze had settled on the stockings hung by the fire. Stockings, I mused, seemed an odd place for a gift. The spell was hardly broken as my father quietly smiled, and spoke softly of another time, when Christmas was young. You see, he said, there was a time when children did not receive presents at Christmas... not even in stockings. More than a thousand Christmas seasons have come and gone, and yet, you may not have heard the real story of Saint Nicholas; and how he brought a special magic to us all so many years ago. So grab your blanket, and snuggle in. And I will tell you the legend of St. Nicholas... exactly as my father told it to me.
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