Christmas Images Captured by the Heart

A few days ago I wrote a sarcastic column and subsequent post about the commercialism of Christmas, titled . While I stand by that column and believe it to be a valid commentary on the current state of the holiday, it did not and does not reflect what the holiday means to me. I love Christmas and look forward to it each year, but I truly enjoy the giving more than the getting.

I received a call Monday from a new friend, Kim. Santa had developed a toothache and was going to miss his appearance at a local apartment complex.

"Would you please go in his place, it would mean so much to the children, you can do it?"

I agreed, but was not too happy about my only qualification being a certain part of my body, acquired by eating gravy biscuits a little too often.

How hard could it be? A few "Ho, ho, hos" and some "Merry Christmases" thrown in and the worst thing that could happen, a wet lap or dealing with a runny nose.

I arrived and dressed in Santa’s suit — the fact that it hung on me loosely and that the belt had to be wrapped around me three times before being stapled in the back — made me feel better. I left the office and moved through the parking lot carrying a hand full of balloons. By the time I arrived where Santa was supposed to be I was followed by a gaggle of children and felt less like Santa and more like the Pied Piper.

I had several Elves, most of which were helping the children make ornaments for their parents and write their wish lists to Santa. There was also a camera Elf to document those moments in Santa’s lap, which live on forever.

For about two hours children approached and sat in my lap. Others moved around the room eyeing me curiously and cautiously, trying to get up the courage to come closer. All spoke sweetly and asked for their dreams with great sincerity, some of them said nothing, but after handing me their letter, smiled brightly for the camera Elf. Many were simply too old to get involved. Once everyone had paid a visit I had to stay for late arrivals.

Between sets, if Santa has sets, I stepped out the back door, being careful to keep maintain my Santa image. I found myself near a basketball court. Outside away from the prying eyes of the adults/Elves, those too old surrounded me and enjoyed themselves as if they were much younger. No one was disrespectful even though most were teenagers. Everyone needs a little hope in this day and time, it seems.

Several of the smaller children drifted up, one climbed up into my arms and, never saying a word, clung tightly throughout the entire conversation. Another stood silently next to me squeezing my hand so tightly it almost hurt — let it hurt, I could stand it. I went back inside with my two new attachments still attached. I sat there for the better part of two more hours. I couldn’t leave until 4.

In the middle of the room children giggled as they worked on crafts and I sat in the corner, simply trying to look Santa-ish. The little ones kept drifting back my way to climb into my lap. They would sit there for a time, some would ask their innocent questions, some would simply wrap their arms around me and hold on while sucking their thumbs and dreamily considering Christmas Day. A few napped briefly. These are the picture the camera Elf should have caught, but they were only caught by the shutter of the camera in my heart.

At the very end of it all, one girl I’d guess was 11, who had been helping the small ones with their crafts, approached. I had noticed her noticing me as she played Elf to all those around her. She handed me her wish list.

“Do you want to have your picture taken with me?” She nodded no and in two steps was out the back door and gone. I opened the list. Please bring my 3-year old-cousin some gifts, was all it said. I might have cried.

Thank you, Kim, all the Elves at Dogwood and a special thank you to those kids, this was the best Christmas present I’ve gotten in years and it gave me the kind of Christmas story we all need to hear.