Santa's Cover Up!
A Christmas Filled With Miracles
by Mary Ellen "Angel Scribe"
Story by Paul in California
Christmas has always been my absolute favorite time. As Scrooge's nephew Fred says in A Christmas Carol, "It's a goodly time of year......" My spirit beams. The song in my heart cannot be contained by a smile that reaches for my curly red hair. The joy of giving envelops me like an enormous down comforter on a cold winter's night. You couldn't guess from all this that I'm Jewish!
Some years ago, my two best friends bequeathed me a dime-store Santa suit. From the moment I possessed it, it possessed me.
On Christmas Eve, I was compelled to put on the suit, the cotton beard, the plastic belt, and shoe coverings. The Santa suit called to me from the closet where it hung patiently the other 364 days of the year.
In the beginning, I visited the childrens' wards in hospitals and handed out candy canes. The elation of knowing that Santa had found the children, even in the darkest of places, lifted my spirits.
I rang a giant set of bells and "Ho Ho Ho'd" through the hallways letting all know that bright eyes and a smile could be expected when I arrived in their rooms.
After each hospital adventure, I returned home exhausted, my voice gone, but with a true contentment few could possibly know unless they've put on the suit themselves.
Over the next few Christmases I improved upon the suit. I added faux white fur, real leather boots, Granny glasses with makeshift lenses of my prescription, a velvet hat, and a luxurious beard from which I cut off the moustache and spirit-gummed it to my own moustache for the sake of realism. It became a rather sticky situation the Christmas Eve I found I had no rubbing alcohol to remove the glue from my own hair.
After my visits to the hospitals, I added an unwed mothers shelter. Each child sat upon my lap telling me what they hoped would be under the Christmas tree for them, and then posed for a picture as an everlasting souvenir of their visit with St. Nick.
In the following Christmases, I started visiting all my friends who had small children. We planned it so they would catch me leaving gifts in their stockings. I'd exchange a few words in my deepest Santa voice, but only a few precious words so as not to give them an inkling they were meeting anyone but the genuine article. To this day, my favorite kids still believe.
And then last Christmas my miracle happened. I was driving home from my last delivery. I was looking forward to spending Christmas Eve curled up in bed with my dogs watching "It's A Wonderful Life" until I drifted off to some much-needed sleep.
The streets were as quiet as they should be on the 24th of December. A choir was singing on the radio.
As I came to a stop light, I noticed a homeless person sleeping on a bench under a few sheets of newspaper. As if a divine spark raced into my head, I remembered that the giant sack I carried had several blankets in it to give the illusion that it was bursting with toys.
"How Perfect," I thought, and because I have very little editing process between my brain and my actions, I made a U-turn and parked alongside the bench.
Quickly I got out of the car, still in full Santa attire, pulled out the biggest blanket I had, and draped it over the sleeping man, careful not to stir him from his Christmas dream.
Equally as fast, I jumped back into the car and drove off. I laughed as loud and as heartily as I had laughed in a long time. It seemed to just explode out of me, and it wasn't because of the deed I had just done.
I couldn't help imagining the look on the man's face when he woke up Christmas morning under a brand-new blanket and the questions that would pop into his head and how much time he might spend Christmas day wondering who would do such a thing! Even the thought that someone had seen Santa tucking in the man in the blanket delighted me. I laughed about this all the way home and well into the New Year.
I believe there are three ages of a man: when he believes in Santa Claus, when he doesn't believe in Santa Claus, when he IS Santa Claus.
Take care, Paul in Van Nuys, California
Editor's Note:
I have only 10 "Christmas Filled With Miracles" in stock and 20 "Expect Miracles."
E-mail me for details on how to recieve autographed copies for $15 each plus shipping.
