It was the latter part of the '20s as best I can remember, and I must have been 7 or 8 years old. We were living on a farm located high on a hill west of Novinger, Missouri. Times were very hard. I can remember when we did not have 3 cents to mail a letter. At school, one of my teachers had told us about Christmas, Santa Claus and presents, and I wished I could get a present. But I knew I wouldn't because I had heard some of the older boys talking once and saying that there wasn't any Santa Claus. But I wished and hoped that maybe they were wrong. I decided to hang up one of my stockings anyhow and see. So on Christmas Eve, when none of my brothers or sister were looking, I sneaked into the living room and hung up one of my stockings and went upstairs to bed. The next morning I got up and went downstairs to see what Santa Claus had put in my stocking. Yes! There was some-thing in it! It was bulging out slightly. What is it? There really must be a Santa Claus! Excitedly, I took down my stocking and shook out the contents. But I was crestfallen and crushed when only some pieces of coal and an apple core fell out. "What did Santa Claus bring you?" It was one of my older brothers grinning and laughing across the room. He had played this little prank on me. "Oh nothing," I said, trying to be flippant. "I knew there wasn't a Santa Claus. The kids at school dared me to put a stocking up, so I did just for the fun of it." I hurriedly left the room, went into the kitchen, broke the ice covering the water bucket and used some to wash my face. I didn't want anyone to see how badly and disappointed I felt.