A guest post by Kris Kringle
I told you last year that I thought Kris Kringle had a great thing going, and that I fully intended on encroaching on his territory. And I have to admit that I do it willfully and intentionally, and, to some degree, selfishly. I find that I get soooo much out of being Santa Claus, I often feel like I am taking more out than I am putting into the real purpose of Christmas. Notwithstanding my own misgivings, I still maintain it is the best job going.
I told you last year that I thought Kris Kringle had a great thing going, and that I fully intended on encroaching on his territory. And I have to admit that I do it willfully and intentionally, and, to some degree, selfishly. I find that I get soooo much out of being Santa Claus, I often feel like I am taking more out than I am putting into the real purpose of Christmas. Notwithstanding my own misgivings, I still maintain it is the best job going.
My Beloved and I have been recreating Santa and Mrs. Rebecca
Claus (there – you heard her first name here first!) for some years now, and
each year it is a special treat. We sincerely hope it also is for the people
with whom we have the pleasure of visiting.
This year, for about the last five or six weeks, we have
visited some 25 organized events and several spontaneous ones (disorganized
events?), and they have each and every one been special to us. We have sat over 1000 little ones on our
collective knee this year, over 200 not-so-little ones, and we have had the
great pleasure of visiting with some 450 seniors (who were not able to sit on
our knees, so we bent ours to them. As
it should be. And our knees are still
working! That in itself is a great
Christmas blessing!).
During Christmas-time 2015, my beloved Rebecca and I have
been fêted by young Irish Dancers, world-class Figure Skaters, Madrigal
Singers, Farmers’ Marketers, school children galore, hockey players, patients
in the Sick Kids’ hospital, and many dental patients–all of whom knew the song “All
I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth” (and most of whom asked me ‘Please,
PLEASE don’t sing it to me, Santa, you sound like my Dad!’.)
Amongst the middle-aged crowd were a myriad of parents who,
without exception, wished only the best for their children and families. It was good for Santa to see and hear that.
One very special young man, in his mid-20s, had never before
encountered our western incarnation of the Santa Claus legend. He was a large fellow, who asked if he could
hug me; of course I replied it was expected!
He put his burly arms around me and literally lifted me off the floor –
not an easy task in itself when you think of Santa’s size–all the while giving
me the best bear-hug I have ever had!
After I regained my ability to breathe and speak, I asked a bit about
himself. Turns out he had only been in
Canada two weeks, a Syrian refugee who after many months had found a new home
with some wonderful caring people. When
I asked him what he would like for Christmas, he wished for peace and a new
home for all of his family and friends still enmeshed in the war and strife in
his homeland. He wished me a Merry
Christmas before I could even mutter the words to him.
On the campus of the local University, we had been invited
to the home of a professor and his family who were hosting a Christmas party
for his family and about 20 or so international graduate students studying with
the professor–students from Iran, Turkey, India, Syria, Japan, Israel, China,
and a couple of other far-flung lands.
To my knowledge none were Christian, but each insisted on visiting with
Santa and Rebecca to learn more about what must have been strange western Christmas
customs. We spent more time that we
probably should have with these bright young people. Each of them sported a
huge smile and returned wishes of peace and success and prosperity–for us, for their
hosts in a new country, and for their families and friends back home. Not one of them hesitated wishing me a Merry
Christmas, and I received with great gladness many wishes for a happy Hannukah,
a good Ramadan, and several other upcoming holy-day festivals that I am still
studying up on. I will celebrate each of
them with glee and gladness for new-found friends.
The most moving experience for Santa this year was a delightful
young 9-year-old Irish dancer–Natalie.
She came to my knee with a little less than her usual smile or her usual
brightness for the season. When I got
around to asking what she would like for Christmas, I certainly wasn’t
expecting to hear: “I would like the bombing to stop.” This was just a couple of days after the
terrible events in Paris, and I could tell little Natalie was carrying the weight
of the world on her shoulders that night.
“Yes, Natalie, I would like the bombing to stop too. [Long pause]. I will see what I can do about that, okay? In
the meantime, is there something that you
would like for Christmas, something just for you?”
Natalie was not to be deterred. “No, Santa, I just want the bombing to
stop. Is there something I can do to
make it stop?”
Another long pause.
But then the words came into Santa’s mind.
“Yes, Natalie, there is something you can do to make the
bombing stop. In fact, there are two
things you can do. First, you can keep
smiling! You have such a beautiful
smile! Share your smile with everyone in
the world, because that tells everyone that you love them—and the bombing will stop. And second, dear Natalie, just keep on
dancing! I promise you that if you keep
on dancing, and show the world that you love everyone like I know you do, the
bombing will stop, one day.”
I had a great Christmas in 2015, my friends, thanks mostly
to the Natalies of the world. I hope and
wish that yours has been a wonderful one too.
Peace on Earth, Good Will to Women, Men and Children,
Always!
With much love,
Santa and Rebecca Claus
 |
| From all of us to all of you: a very Merry Christmas! |
