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Sarah Sues Santa – P.J. Leonard

“But…how?” Sarah scratched her woolly hat, “I only just posted it!”
The Postman laughed so loud that Sarah thought that half the street would wake up. “Oh, my dear!
I’m not here to collect your letter. No, that’s been done already! I am here to give you your reply.
Now let me see…”
The Postman swung the bag off of his shoulder and began to rummage through the pile of letters
inside, while Sarah shivered with cold and fear. Santa had replied already? But…how? She knew
the old story of how Santa could see all the children in the world in one night, but this…seeing it for
herself was something else. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so sure about this whole idea of suing Santa.
He didn’t sound like the kind of guy Sarah wanted to get on the wrong side of. What if she wrote
him a quick apology right now? Maybe that would get to him just as fast…
“Ah, here it is!” the Postman pulled out a red envelope, and with a bright smile handed it over to
Sarah. To Sarah Pebbleton, it said on the front in big loopy writing. Hands shaking, she tore it open
and read the golden letter inside:

Dear Sarah,
Thank you for your kind message. It looks like we have a lot to talk about. Please come to my
workshop in the North Pole right away. Here are some special tickets. They will get you to where
you need to go.
The only thing I ask is that you please visit three houses on the way here. You will understand why
soon.
I look forward to meeting you.

Yours,
Santa Claus

The letter shook in Sarah’s hands so much that she nearly forgot about the strange Postman standing
in front of her. She read at it two more times before she finally said anything:
“What…what does it mean, special tickets?” she stammered. She looked up, and the Postman had
suddenly disappeared without a trace. She looked down at the letter again - except it wasn’t a letter
anymore, but four golden tickets.
Sarah felt a warm glow on her back. She turned, and saw a golden light spilling out of the letterbox,
as though there was a bright and sunny day inside. She tried to peek inside, but the light blinded
her. Then she spotted the door handle on the postbox. She looked up and down the street one more
time. Empty. Was she dreaming? But she couldn't be: this cold felt very real, nipping at her nose
and making it runny.

For some reason she knew what to do. She took one ticket and slid it into the postbox. Instantly the
little door swung open, but instead of a pile of letters pouring out, that warm light washed over her.
It was just like a nice warm bath. Without thinking, she pocketed the other three tickets and stepped
forward into the light.

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