Thoughts on PRETENDING TO BE SANTA

On the face of it, it seems pretty simple. Dress up like the fat guy and spread a little cheer. Make a few kids happy for a day. After all, I had pretended to be Santa for years with my own kids. It seemed to work with them.

All, that is except Chelane. She was too young to know that the big hairy guy was really her dear old dad in a funny suit. So I accepted the job. When they called, I was a little reluctant. How could I pretend to be Santa for a bunch of kids I didn't really know? They said I would have a great time, so off I went to the Central City Community Center. Here was the plan. Every kid got a candy cane and a pair of gloves for the winter.

The kids loved it. It was a magical time. The children told me everything they wanted. I smiled and told them Santa would do his best. Somehow I knew they wouldn't get the puppies or the ponies, but there was an outside chance they might get the toy truck or the Barbie doll. They were thrilled to get the gloves and candy. I went home feeling pretty good and had some fun with the kids - and their mother.

The next year they called me again and I jumped at the chance. This was going to be fun. This year the kids would get candy cane and a pair of socks. The kids were a lot of fun, but at the end, one little boy's mother came and sat on my lap. She said " Santa, can you bring me a man? - I want a man that won't beat me and my boy". I started to cry as she started to cry. I knew there was nothing I could do for her. This time when I left, I wondered if I had done any good. The next year when I got the call to go again, I told them no. I couldn't do that again. It would be too hard. Now I look back and wonder if I made the right decision. Someone else got to share the fun with the kids that year, and maybe someone else was able to make a difference. Somehow Christmas had to be something better than a candy cane and a sock.

Years before, Janene and I took Christmas goodies to an older woman from Scotland who had no children in our area. Somehow we found out that she loved the heather on the hills of Scotland. After scouring the valley, we finally found a heather plant and took it to her. I don't remember her name, but I do remember how happy she was. When we had a little girl later, the name Heather seemed like a beautiful name for our darling little girl. We didn't solve that woman's problems, she still lived in a dumpy cramped house and nobody ever called to visit her, but for one night there was a smile on her face. Maybe, just maybe - that's good enough.