A Small Town Santa Claus

It all started at lunch one Sunday after church. One of the deacons who had played Santa at the town Christmas Tree lighting for years mentioned that they were going to begin snow birding. "Wait," I said "then who is going to play Santa?" "Not sure." He shrugged, looking weary, then hopeful. "Do you want to do it?" I immediately said yes. As a generously proportioned man with a large beard, it is my duty. So, I went right out and bought a Santa suit and waited for the day to come.

But if you have ever volunteered for anything, you know planning can be poor, and communication even worse. One of the people who organizes the event elected to play Santa himself last year. But no one told me, or I did not understand. I showed up dressed and ready to go. Only to turn around and go back home when I realized I was not needed. I wondered if it was not that people did not want a relative newcomer to town taking part in this important tradition.

So, when I got the call this year, I hesitated for a moment. But only a moment. Rural children grow up far from the shopping malls and department stores where one normally encounters Santa Claus. At times missing out on some of the season's little joys. Which does not sit well with me. I love children. I was an adult volunteer for the Boy Scouts the whole time my son was in the program. And I a career mentor at his school for a couple of years. But there comes a time in your life where your children are grown, but not yet parents themselves, and you do not have children in your life. A chance to make some of them smile is a lot of fun actually.

Everything went off without a hitch this year. One of the local police officers drove me. As the singers began "Here Comes Santa Claus" we came roaring onto the common with the lights and siren going. I stepped out and boomed a "Ho, ho, ho" as loud as I could muster. Then strode over to the Christmas tree where, as arranged, the lights came to life at my touch. A score of beaming little faces greeted me, eager to meet Santa, and tell him what they want for Christmas.

Do you know not a single child asked Santa for a video game? Two boys asked for pocketknives. One older girl asked for fabric for sewing. And the littlest one asked for a baby doll. In each case I nodded and repeated what they said loud enough for parents to hear. Asking clarifying questions as needed, and avoiding the topic of pets, on account of they spook the reindeer. As is the custom of Santas everywhere.

After each child had their turn, I shook a few of the men's hands and disappeared back into the night. With a very full heart. Of love for my perfect little village, and joy at being a part of it. I hope that I will get to do it again next year. See we all want wholeness, connection, and meaning. But no one wants to do the work. Community comes from hosting events, feeding people, telling stories, and bestowing little blessings. For most of us the peace we are looking for is in the work we are avoiding.