When I asked Emily if she believed in Santa, we remembered an occasion from years ago. Emily was only little, and we were walking somewhere in the week between Christmas Day and New Year's Eve, (the week when nobody can quite put their finger on what day it is), and we saw Santa. What we actually saw was an old man who looked JUST LIKE the great man, except that he was in civilian clothing. He was smartly dressed and looked like Kris Kringle in Miracle On 34th Street, (another film I cry at). Clocking that Emily was convinced he was Santa, he winked and smiled at Emily, as if playing along with the game that he was indeed the reindeer driving present delivery man. It was wonderful that this perfect stranger joined in with the childhood innocence that Santa was walking along Redcar seafront, but in retelling this story on Christmas Eve 2012, Emily pricked the wholesome wonder of the story: "He was either the real Santa, or a nice old man, or a paedophile". Merry Christmas!