Rock

The rocking chair rocked slowly, creaking on the wooden floor. The old man dressed as Santa Claus smiled and welcomed the kids entering the room with a wave, some frightened, some overjoyed. It was a cold, snowy day in December and my grandma brought my sister and I to my cousin's school, a deaf school, to watch a play that he was in and then to enjoy a "meet and greet" with Santa. Because we were at a deaf school, Santa was of course deaf and so were the majority of the people around us, including my cousin, Elijah, and my grandma.
Santa chuckled loudly as he rocked back in forth in his chair, waving us over with a jolly grin pasted to his face. As a 9 year old, I didn't know much sign language, so my younger cousin, Cordell, who is hearing impaired (he is not completely deaf so he can hear more than deaf people but less than others), had to translate. "Hello, have you been a good little girl?" Santa motioned with complex signs. I nodded, that was one sign I knew well. "That's great! What would you like for Christmas this year?" I answered with the only sign that I knew would be helpful for this occasion, a new book. I know most 9 year olds wouldn't ask Santa for a book but I really wanted a new one and that was one of the few signs that I knew. Santa handed me a candy cane and sent me on my way with a grin and a pat on the back.
Rocking back and forth in his rickety, wooden chair, continuously, Santa met with my cousins and my sister. Afterwards we marched, with our candy canes, downstairs into the lobby and ate donuts and drank steaming hot chocolate. Later, with the memories of Jolly Old Saint Nick in our heads, we left with smiles on our faces and candy canes in our hands.