I remember when I was young that one of the best parts of the holiday season was a visit to the City to see the Christmas windows. Actually two visits – one at night to drive along the Marina in San Francisco, past all the big bay windows, a gorgeous tree in each one. And then a daytime visit, presumably to shop, though money was scarce. It was really to see the marvelous fantasies created by the window decorators – each year’s more glorious than the last.
And, of course, to see Santa! I don’t remember exactly when I became a bit confused about that. There seemed to be a Santa on every corner ringing bells to draw attention to their donation buckets for the Salvation Army, to say nothing of the Santa in the toy department of each and every store. And they all looked different – short, tall, fat, thin, blue eyes, brown eyes. I don’t know when I asked but I do remember the answer: “They are Santa’s helpers. They represent the spirit of Christmas which is what the real Santa is all about.”
It was a big concept for a little girl. And it’s taken me 81 Christmases to get the full impact. Yesterday in Good Samaritan’s Critical Care Unit there were Santas everywhere! No red suits. No Ho! Ho! Hos! No big white fluffy beards (well… maybe a few). But it was that ‘spirit’ that surrounded Nyel and all of us – the caring, nurturing, hopeful spirit. And then there were the emails that were pouring in. And the FaceBook messages – faces we know, others we don’t. Many, many, many…
How to thank each Santa? How to tell each and every one how much their concern means? And how to shout out that Nyel is stable and that we are hopeful and just how much all that caring means. I’m sure I didn’t get weepy around all the Santas of my childhood – it must be an age thing. But now… I am full to tearful overflowing with thanks for all of the Santas in our lives.
And today Charlie and Marta and I may find out when our own, personal Santa Nyel might get to come home! That will be the best Christmas present of all!
Every child faces the dilemma of too many Santa Clauses. Every parent has the “Santa’s helper” story. Life goes on despite election outcomes.