Aunt Carole, Grandmother, and the Sleigh

Perhaps because it was December and Grandmother was nostalgic for everything Christmastime—but for whatever the reason—the matriarch of the Marco family decided it was time to send her quirky granddaughter out on a mission to restore Christmas.

During prior holiday seasons, the granddaughter, who was the notoriously popular aunt, had a history for calamity. Quite often, Aunt Carole became the subject of scrutiny because she could not stop her big heart and her never-ending gift of giving—even if some of her efforts in pleasing the family brought in the FBI and other branches of law enforcement. Her alleged trouble with authorities included a December bank robbery with a Santa Claus suit and more trouble with a drinking and dancing episode during spring break. Another trespassing mishap with an Easter bunny costume required Grandmother to once again bring in an army of lawyers to save the day.

For the upcoming Christmas holidays, Grandmother - from her headquarters in her sprawling waterfront estate - decided to tame Aunt Carole’s wayward good cheer with a mission of nostalgia.

Because Grandmother was a big fan of antique shows on television, the plan for Aunt Carole was simple. To occupy and constrain the black sheep of the family, the wealthy matriarch focused on the big barns and warehouses that were full to the rafters with everything dear to Grandmother when she was a little girl. With all the possibilities waiting in the big, wide world of Christmas nostalgia, Grandmother felt certain Aunt Carole, with a rental truck and enough cash, could bring home something very special for Christmas.

Well-armed with the largest flatbed she could find, a ton of money, and her phone, which could find any antique barn or nostalgia center that was hiding in the overgrown countryside of inland Florida, Aunt Carole jumped into her latest adventure and set out on Grandmother’s mission.

After reading about the glory days of circus and wild animal shows and the rise and fall of almost every effort to bring motoring tourists into the attraction traps that would build an industry, the forgotten storage facilities of Central Florida seemed like a good place to start.

Aunt Carole was never shy with men, money, or anything else. After finding her first antique barn, which turned awkward when the leering man at the warehouse began trying to romance the beautiful redhead with his prowess on rusting gasoline pumps, a wink and a hundred-dollar bill dismissed the misplaced affection and the rental truck was once again on the road to discovery.

The next stop was an ancient dairy farm, converted into a storage facility. After the broken doors opened with a rusty creak, the stylish woman dressed in a safari outfit ordered everything Christmas to come out of the barn.

After a crew of sweating men began to cast malevolent over-the-shoulder looks in the direction of the bossy woman and her flatbed, the old Santa sleigh finally came out of the barn and into the sunshine. The sleigh was huge and old—but even with the dents and faded paint—it was still magnificent. Rust ran in streaks from the bench where Santa sat, and the back, which had room for hundreds of presents, was a tangle of cracked harnesses. The jingle bells on the moldy leather were tarnished, but there was enough of the reindeer tackle for nine of the fabled creatures who could defy gravity.

Before Aunt Carole could count out the cash, the men from the warehouse were smiling, and Santa’s sleigh with the reindeer gear was loaded and strapped to the flatbed. When the truck with the ramshackle sleigh pulled into the waterfront estate at sunset, Grandmother cried tears of joy.

The next day, Aunt Carole called a local auto-body repair shop and promised to pay the man a small fortune if he could paint and restore Santa’s ride before the family came home for the annual Florida Christmas.

The man promised he would have Santa’s sleigh ready for display on Grandmother’s front lawn with time to spare. “Not to worry,” he said repeatedly. “I know about your grandmother and I know the address. My crew will pick up the sleigh tomorrow. We should be finished before the weekend.”

The following morning when Grandmother and Aunt Carole were sipping coffee, they looked out to the driveway and noticed the Santa sleigh was already unloaded and off to the body shop for restoration.

Two days after Aunt Carole drove the empty flatbed back to the truck rental center, and one day before the family was to arrive at the matriarch’s home for the holidays, Grandmother and her quirky heir looked out to the perfectly manicured lawn just before sunrise. Resting in the exact center of the landscaping, the old Santa’s sleigh looked like it came off the factory floor where the elves cobbled it together.

Without a word, both women walked out on the lawn to examine the sleigh that seemed to glow in the predawn light. Everything was perfect. The red paint was brilliant. The white trim was the color of snow and the runners on the grass were the color of silver tinsel. In front of the sleigh, a team of perfectly polished wooden reindeer was wearing a new train of gleaming leather tack and harness. The jingle bells were shining like the stars that were waiting for sunrise and the whole rig looked ready for someone to climb aboard and fly.

After both women were trying to recover from the shock and awe and the spectacle of the magic of Christmastime, Aunt Carole’s phone rang. It was the man from the body shop apologizing that he had not had time to pick up Santa’s sleigh for the Christmastime restoration.