As I was unpacking the Christmas decorations a few days ago, I was greeted by an old friend whom I hadn't seen in several years: Santa Bank.
I don't remember when Santa Bank came to live with us. He's been a part of the family for as long as I can remember.
I also don't know where Santa Bank came from. I assume that he was a gift to me when I was a small child. His left foot says that he came from "Mexico." I wish I knew how he got from Mexico to me.
He's got a few cracks and chips, and part of his nose is missing. He's obviously been well-loved.
Somebody raided Santa Bank a while back (probably me), as you can see from the injury to his backside. He's still got some coins rattling around inside, but I just leave them there. These days, you just never know when a few extra coins might come in handy.
Santa Bank hasn't come out to visit for quite a few years. He's old and fragile (like me), and I was worried that he wouldn't survive my daughter's curiosity.
Hopefully Santa Bank will survive long enough for my daughter's children to forget where he came from.
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This post is part of the "2012 Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories," and was originally posted on December 17, 2009. Slight modifications have been made.
Copyright © by Elizabeth O'NealPrint this post