Where’s Sherlock Holmes When You Need Him? (standard:humor, 899 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Sep 16 2018	Views/Reads: 1675/1151	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Some mysteries are too sacred to try to solve, rather we should rejoice in the mysteries associated with our Father which art in heaven.

I, like so many people, love a good mystery. I have read all of the
Sherlock Holmes stories, the Father Brown stories and other good 
mystery novels. I just like trying to solve a good mystery. 

A good mystery does not reveal the mystery until the very end. All the
way through the story, importance evidence points to that person and 
the other person and so forth. However, you must read the end of the 
story to find out the answer to the mystery. 

Mysteries do not just exist in novels for short stories. In my case,
mysteries are all through my life. I cannot manage one day without some 
kind of a mystery. 

It is not because I am getting older either. As I remember my younger
days, it too was filled with mysteries. 

I remember that one Christmas Eve when I was going to solve the mystery
of Santa Claus. I heard about this mysterious person, but I had never 
seen him and this Christmas, I promised myself, I am going to see who 
this Santa Claus really is. 

That night my parents sent me and my brother and sister to bed early
because it was Christmas Eve. We had our little party around the 
Christmas tree and admired where all the Christmas gifts should be come 
morning. 

Then at the strike of 10 o'clock, we were sent to our bedrooms to await
the coming of Santa Claus and the Christmas gifts. I decided to stay up 
and just see how Mr. Santa Claus worked his mystery on Christmas Eve. 

Hiding in the shadows, I could see my mother and father around the
Christmas tree drinking some Christmas punch, talking and laughing. 
They seemed to be having a good time. I was a little irritated because 
they were having a good time at my expense. 

Then I heard my mother say, “Don't you think it's about time?” 

My mother and father looked at each other and giggled one of those
hilarious giggles. My father said, “It sure is. Let's go and get them.” 


At the time, I really did not understand what he was talking about. What
were they supposed to go and get? Why won't they get out of the way so 
Santa Claus can come and do his “thing?” 

They soon disappeared and I got excited because I figured the next
person coming into the living room would be Santa Claus himself. 

I faintly heard from the hall, “Shhhhhh, we don't want to wake up the
kids.” 

Then I saw something I never anticipated my whole life. My mother and
father came into the living room carrying Christmas gifts and carefully 
placed them under the Christmas tree. They made several trips and it 
was not long before the Christmas tree was loaded with all kinds of 
Christmas gifts. 

I just could not believe my eyes. For years, my parents told us the tale
of Santa Claus along with Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. They told it 
in such a way that I believed every word. Now, before me was evidence 
that what they were telling me all these years presented as a mystery, 
was not a mystery at all. 

I just solved the biggest mystery in my life up to that point. My
parents were Santa Claus. It was hard for me to swallow that 
information. It was not the mystery I wanted to solve. 

Now I had another mystery on my hands. Do I tell my brother and sister
that I had solved the biggest mystery we had in our home? 

To reveal the mystery to them would give me great satisfaction. 

On the other hand, to reveal the mystery to them would greatly
disappoint them. 



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