Well, I guess we forgot to leave something for Santa this year, but this thread reminds me of something from my childhood.
I grew up in in Norway and the first years of my life, we had a small dairy farm, the perfect surroundings for an oldfashioned country Christmas.
On Christmas Eve, I had the honor as the youngest of six children to make a trip to the barn with a bowl of porridge (hot cereal) for the "nisse", some called him little Santa Claus, or the gnome who -- according to superstition -- is the protector of the farm. My elder brothers sure made me believe he existed. It was dark, so I really didn't want to go there by myself and one of the brothers always came along as a security guard. "Listen! Can you hear him?" Sure, I could. With all the sounds there are in a cowbarn, it was easy for me to hear "him". Believe it or not, but on Christmas morning, the bowl was empty. I guess some small critters had one heck of a meal.