Another memory to upload to the net.
When I was a little girl, we lived in Clark AFB, in the Philippines. December was always rainy and warm. I was age 4-6 and just becoming aware that I was a separate entity in the Universe. This led me to relate to my surroundings and make intellectual connections based on those surroundings. In other words I thought the entire world was a lush tropical paradise populated with beautiful dark skinned people. I also thought that winter and Christmas meant lots of rain and typhoons.
And somehow my little mind made this equation:
Green and red decorations + December + Snow = Santa Claus comes.
Green and red decorations + December + NO SNOW = NO SANTA
Now, I can't tell you how horribly anxiety-inducing that thought is to a 5 year old. We were all kids at one time, so I'm sure you can imagine. Thankfully, I was a US Air Force dependent. The DOD is very much aware of the importance depressed dependent children have on Air Force work flow. SO, having moderate air resources available, the AF teamed up with the Big Guy in Red and brought Christmas to my little elementary school.
Imagine a group of little kids lined up and marched to the playground. We gathered at the edge of the field where we saw folks in uniform (many of them our moms and dads) acting busy and serious. Stand here! Don't go there! Accountabilty! What the hell was going on? And then....we heard it. That tell-tale whomp-whomp sound of Huey rotors. The chopper came over the trees and hovered over our little playground. Dirt, straw, grass and pebbles blew all around us as the rotor wash created this turbulent micro universe where every eye was focused on the line that dropped from the Huey. Every man, woman and child watched as Santa himself rappelled like an Air Assault master out of the chopper and landed on the field to roaring applause.
What little kid would ever forget that?