EDITOR’S NOTE: This part one of a continuing, fictional holiday tale that is running daily through Christmas. Parents are encouraged to read along with their children.

Olivia sat at her kitchen table, staring back and forth from her mother to the stranger who claimed he was Santa Claus. He sat with his hands folded on the table, watching Olivia’s mom read the papers he’d given her — a contract, he called it.

This couldn’t be real. How was it possible that her mom was contemplating letting this guy take her away to some weird Christmas camp? She feared that despite its cheerful name, “Camp Secret Santa,” it was nothing more than a discipline-based boot camp for troublemaking kids.

OK, so maybe she hadn’t been the greatest daughter for the past couple years. She slacked off in school, even had gotten detention a few times, and she got a little mouthy with her mom on occasion. It didn’t help that as Christmas grew closer, she grew even more agitated, though she had a hard time pinpointing why.

She used to love the Christmas season. The songs, the cookies, the presents … all of it. What kid doesn’t adore Christmas? But Olivia was 11 years old now, and after her dad died a few years ago and her mom had to take on extra jobs to take care of her and her little brother Sam, well … Christmas just didn’t bring much joy.

Her mother, on the other hand, absolutely loved Christmas to an extreme level. Olivia was pretty sure she’d never met anyone who loved Christmas more than her mom. Even the last few years when she had to pull late Christmas Eve shifts and leave Olivia and Sam with the neighbors, she was always there to pick them up at sunrise on Christmas morning. She might have looked like she hadn’t slept for weeks, but without fail, her smile and her eyes were full of pure joy.

Olivia knew she should be more grateful to her mom for everything she’d done for them. But she just felt so angry inside, and selfishness often took over — especially at Christmas when the world was all “hope and joy and do good unto all.” Olivia just didn’t believe in any of it anymore.

Speaking of believing and not believing … this man, the director of Camp Secret Santa, was sitting at her kitchen table acting like this was completely normal. Worse, he actually seemed to expect her to believe he was the big guy himself: Santa Claus.

Olivia stopped believing in Santa years ago, although she still pretended he was real in front of Sam. Her mom had never given up the act though. And up until this very moment, that’s all Olivia though it was — an act. But now she was pretty sure her mom actually believed Santa was real, and that he was sitting in their kitchen.

The stranger was wearing a navy blue suit (very unlike Santa), and had a short, neatly trimmed beard (also unlike Santa). She looked at her mom and watched as she tapped her fingers on the table, her glasses pulled halfway down her nose as she read, and Olivia couldn’t take it any longer.

“Mom!”

Elizabeth Parks jumped from her daughter’s exclamation. She set down the paperwork, calmly lifting her cup of coffee to her lips for a drink before she spoke.

“I don’t think yelling is necessary, Livy. You’re going to wake your brother.” Olivia rolled her eyes. Sam was 6 and slept like a rock. He wouldn’t wake up if Faux Santa himself went and sang “Jingle Bells” in his room.

“Mom. You can’t seriously be thinking of sending me away with this man. Please don’t do this. This is crazy!”

Fake Santa reached inside his suit jacket and handed Olivia a pamphlet.

“The Secret Santa Camp is a magical place, Olivia. It’s a place where boys and girls who are struggling with Christmas spirit, among other things, go to discover true selflessness inside of themselves. There is so much good that needs to be done, and not ever enough time to do it. Won’t you come and help me?”

Olivia couldn’t even respond to him. She looked to her mom, hoping she could see the desperation in her eyes.

“Mommy, please.” She never used the word “mommy” anymore, except when she was scared. And right now, she was scared — really scared. She was supposed to be spending her Christmas break playing video games and going sledding with her friends. Now she was being carted off to some strange place where she was going to have to do chores and talk about her feelings.

Ugh. It sounded awful.

Her mom saw the dread in her eyes and immediately softened.

“Livy, honey, I know this seems … strange, and even frightening. But I truly think this is going to be an experience you end up being so glad you had the chance to do. And you might make some new friends there, too. Not to mention there will be reindeer. You love animals!”

Olivia did love animals. But not enough to be taken to some crazy winter camp for kids a week before Christmas! Reindeer or no reindeer, she had to think fast to get out of this jam, or her holiday would be ho-ho-horrible.

Read chapter two in tomorrow’s newspaper.