Outside, a light snow was falling. The air was crisp and biting. The wind sang through the evergreens and nipped the cheeks and noses of the children playing in the street. Snowballs sailed to and fro. SPLAT! A small, round face with blue eyes and golden curls slowly emerged from behind clenched fists. Snow slipped coldly down the window pane to the tune of jeers and catcalls. After they had had a good laugh, the mean children raced away, leaving little crippled Susie to stare from her wheelchair through the steamy window.

Little Susie never had any fun. She had been born crippled and had spent her entire six and a half years either in bed or in a wheelchair. Her parents tried to spend time with her, but they never seemed to care, really. And to top it off, here it was Christmas Eve and there were neither presents nor a tree in Susie's house. Her father was away; her mother was not yet home from work. All in all, it promised to be a sad Christmas for Susie.

Outside, afternoon was fading and only occasionally did Susie see anyone hurrying homeward with their last minute shopping. It was quiet. Soft yellow light from the gaslamps began to spread over the new snow. Then, ever so softly, came the sound of whistling. Susie leaned forward, trying to see. Her heart bounded! It was Santa Claus! Then her eyes fell. Of course; it was only one of the men who stood on the corner trying to get money for the poor. She sighed and looked up again. The man in red was opposite her window now. Somehow Susie was unsure. He looked, well... different. But no, he couldn't be.

Across the way the mock Santa glanced toward the dreary apartment and, seeing Susie, waved. Timidly, she waved back. The man, who was carrying a small tree, no doubt for his home, looked up at the sky, as if trying to gauge what time it was. Then he shrugged and walked across the street and into the building where Susie lived!

Her heart began to beat rapidly again. Could he be coming here? Surely not, not to crippled Susie's house. Then, behind her back, Susie heard the door creak.

"Who is it?" she asked the window.

The door closed quietly. "Why, Susie, you know me. I'm Santa." He walked over to the window and sat down in a nearby chair. Then he turned the wheelchair to face him.

Susie looked up into his merry, twinkling eyes. In every way he resembled the tried and true Santa, from white beard to black boots... and yet, Susie knew this man could only be a sham. But why were his eyes so twinkly? Why was his nose so red? Why did his belly shake?

"Have... have you come to see... me?" Susie faltered.

"I surely have, my dear. I've come to ask you what you want for Christmas. And I brought you yonder tree, since you haven't one of your own."

Susie looked at the tree. Snow clung to the branches and sparkled like diamonds. The bare little room seemed a little cheerier at the sight. She looked back at Santa. "Are you really the real Santa?"

The apartment rang with laughter. "Why, of course! Ho, ho, ho! Why, would I say I was, if I wasn't? Ho, ho! Now tell me quickly, for I've got to hurry; night is fast coming." He took Susie from her wheelchair and set her on his knee. Then and there she felt it! She felt... well, different! She knew! Slowly, timidly, then faster she spilled out all about the doll she'd seen in the store window. About the candy, the mittens, all she wanted for Christmas. And Santa said not a word; he only nodded. "And that's what I want, Santa," she finished all in a rush.

He smiled. "Well, my dear, I think I can see that you get your wishes. You have been a good little girl, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes!"

Santa nodded again and carefully, gently lifted Susie back into her wheelchair. He stood. "Now child, I must be off." He strode to the door, turned and, smiling, winked. Susie smiled and shyly threw him a kiss. Without another word the door closed behind him.

Susie anxiously watched out the window in the gathering dusk, as Santa Claus walked down the street whistling. The mean children, who had come back, had stopped shouting when Santa left Susie's apartment. Now they turned back to the window, laughing and poking fun at Susie, telling her there was no such thing as Santa Claus. But Susie only smiled a little smile.

Down the street and around the corner, a little old man, dressed in red from head to toe, turned in at Johnson's Livery. He opened the two big doors wide, and soft gaslight fell on eight shadowy forms. He went inside and placed several heavy bundles on an antique sleigh. Climbing aboard, he took up the reins and whistled softly.

Up the street, a little crippled girl heard faint sleigh bells drift from the air with the feathery snow. She heard them and she knew... There was a Santa Claus!