I wore the Red Suit (5 page)

After so many years of perfecting and being the best Santa I could be, I have amassed a large following of kids and parents. They will sometimes wait for an hour in line just for the time their child can sit with me. I have sat with high school teenagers, who in the past were babies sitting on my knee. Those precious five to ten year old kids who wanted a truck, doll, or game, are now grown. Some in college, or working, and some married with children of their own. Several of those older children who graced my knee, have brought their own kids to see the “real Santa.” I have no swelled head here, just a joy that I could keep the Santa mystique alive with so many children; now their children too. What is precious to me is that some of them have brought back the original picture of them as little girls or boys sitting on my lap fifteen years ago. Although, some photos are wrinkled, torn, or the color is starting to fade; rest assured that I remember when that picture was taken.

Sometimes I run across those kids
who try to be like Santa in reverse. There are times children give Santa gifts when they come to visit him at malls or parties. It could be a small toy, figurine, or even a picture of himself or herself. Somewhere along their life they either heard, or reasoned that if you give a gift to Santa, he will remember you when he comes on Christmas Eve. It may or may not have a personal importance to them. I can sense that the children's logic is “if I give something to Santa, then he will bring me something for Christmas. A sort of barter if you will. A child and Santa toy contract, that Santa will not forget them this Christmas. I am not a psychologist, but most times the child who is always in trouble and drives, mommy and daddy crazy. These gifts to me are to square things with Santa. I usually take them if offered, and if the child's eyes reveal they really want me to have it. It is not hard to tell when a child is only making a gesture, and I would respond with thanks, but please keep it. I have also received pacifiers (In which I now have enough to make a good size necklace) baby bottles, cookies, candy and several other items I am still trying to figure out like; diapers, hats and rocks. The parents tell the children that if they give their pacifier to Santa, he will give it to a new baby who needs it. The same goes for baby bottles. It is one-way parents have of breaking their children's dependence on pacifiers, baby bottles, and blankets. Children are not the only ones who bring me something besides a wish list. A family of six brought me a whole meal at the mall where I play Santa. A box packed with meat, potatoes, vegetables, and milk; even desert. I guess I needed fattening up.

Driving is always fun too. While dressed as Santa behind the steering wheel of my Chevy, cars would stop on a main highway and let me come out from a side road. They had the "right-of-way" of course, but it did not matter to them. It is nice how Christmas brings out the good in people.
The Christmas of 1994, was a unique year in many ways for me. Three families on different days before the holiday brought their children to see me. Now these kids jumped on my lap and promptly told me that they were not Catholic or Christian. They said, "we are Jewish" and would I come early and bring them presents for Hanukkah? Strange they do not profess the existence of Jesus as the messiah, but they believe in Santa Claus. What a chance I had to witness on Jesus, that I let slide by me. During my mall Santa sittings, I was instructed the same as the other Santa’s, not to talk about religion, or politics. Just concentrate on toys, lists, and posing for pictures with the kids. However, that does not mean I cannot act as a Christian and show Jesus in everything I do.

Names of children are very interesting, as they seem to be grouped together by year. At also depends on what performer or sports hero is currently on TV, or the big screen. Brittany, Kayla, Brianna, Jason, Kyle, Brads are among the most common that I have heard. I still like the Christmas names of kids who were born around the holidays and visit me.
 
One family had a little boy born on Christmas day, so they named him Christopher Nicholas. The following year a little girl was born to the same family the day-after Christmas, so they named her Noel. I think they had a dog, pepper, which has no significance to Christmas. Keeping with the Christmas spirit of giving, my wife gave me a son on Christmas Eve. We named him Jack. I know what you are thinking, but my son was named after me and not Jack Frost. Christmas type names were not the only ones that I came across. One set of parents named their three girls, Spring, Summer, and Winter for the season they were born in. Autumn is still in mommy’s belly, and she is due in October.

Kids are not the only ones that want their pictures taken with Santa. Every year I have been seeing more and more adults too. I have strong knees, so I can support adults who want a picture with Ole Kris Kringle. Two men, about twenty something who wanted to have their picture taken with Santa. One sat on my left leg and the other took a position on the floor near my right leg. They began to unroll a poster between them. Because I was not sure what it was, I asked to see it first. There have been a few weird people lately, and I needed to be sure this poster was tasteful. I will not do anything or allow anyone near me to destroy the image of Santa in any child's mind.
 
As a result, I check those uncommon things first. It turned out to be a picture of another young man, about the same age. Feeling sad, I asked, is this a picture of a friend who died.

“Oh no!”
 
One of them said. “He lives in Florida now. You see,” said the other man, “every year for the past eleven years; the three of us have our picture taken with Santa. It was our custom to do this every Christmas. We do not want to break a tradition, so we are having a picture taken of us with a poster of our friend Russ.” The photographer on our set took several pictures, and a couple will be mailed to their absent friend. This is definitely not a job, but a true adventure.

For most of the times, it is just a grownup wanting to have fun and show they are not that old that they cannot sit with Santa.
 
I find it refreshing, as they want things for Christmas, even if they stopped believing in me, I mean Santa, a long time ago.

You Want What?

           
Some adults and children will ask Santa for the most unusual and interesting gifts. The age of simple toy requests is almost gone. Those little requests for a doll or truck give way to asking for large amounts of money, and things that are impossible for some parents to get. I am certain the real Santa would find it hard to satisfy some of these requests and wishes. Oh sure, there are still the GI Joes, Barbie’s, Fire trucks and the like. Nevertheless, growing is the number of the new breed, of I want. A young man not quite twenty years old asked if I would let my staff take a picture of me choking him for laughs. I told him that I did not portray Santa Claus as a bully or an evil man. I
told him to sit up straight and smile into the camera. He actually got mad and left. Sometimes
children who appear on my knees with endless lists that include the latest, most expensive toys. I watch as their parents, standing off to the side, violently shaking their heads no. Not long ago, a boy asked me for only one thing. He wanted a pair of sneakers that actually fit, and not his brother’s hand-me-downs. Therefore, I
devised a tale about a naughty elf that slowed toy production at the North Pole. This tale was for those children burdening their parents requesting a gift clearly beyond their family’s price range.

A little girl with sad red eyes, as if she had been crying for days, said that all she wanted was for her parents back together. Her mother forced a smile, but I could tell she was feeling her daughter’s pain of the divorce. “Please Santa” she asks. "Will you make my mommy and daddy love each other like they did before?" Taking her little hands in mine, I tell her. "Santa can't bring two people together; my Christmas magic won't work that way. However, I could pray for your parents and for you if you like. Nevertheless, you must remember that your parents love you very much.” “Thank you Santa,” she says while hugging my face, “I knew you would help.”

Another young girl, I believe about age eleven came to me with this request. “My aunt died yesterday” she said. “I know that you can do some magic. Can you have her spirit visit my house on Christmas Eve? She was my favorite aunt, and I used to see her everyday. Now I miss her.” “I am sorry honey,” I say trying to hide the tremble in my voice. “Only God can command the spirits. That is something neither magic, or I can do. However, what I would be happy to do is pray to Jesus for you. I will pray that he will tell your aunt what your Christmas wish is. In addition, you do not always have to come to me. Did you know that you could pray to him too?” “Thank you Santa,” she says, “I will.” One lad told me that his parents told him that Santa was allergic to swearing. He goes on to say, “if you were to hear me swearing, you would not come to my house; is that true.” I told him, not so much allergic as swearing from such a nice young man would leave a bad impression on those around you. He vowed to refrain from using profanity in the future. I see parents are still making Santa the big stick. How about those children who tell Santa “I have been bad this year and am probably on your naughty list. If I promise to be good next year, would you still bring me something this year?”

         
Sometimes I reach my tolerance limit with people; not too often and never in front of any children. Once an adult male about twenty-three years old comes over and sits on my knee. I get wary of people like this. Most times, they are ok. Nevertheless, occasionally I get a nut case. At first, all he wanted was his picture taken with Santa as a goof to show his two friends that were watching.

So as per my character I say. “What do you want for Christmas?”

“Drugs,” he says!

“Drugs?” I answer back. “Come now young man, be serious, what would you like? There are many children waiting.”

“I am serious Claus Man. I need drugs.”

“That is not good for you, and I only do toys.”

Toys--you mean paraphernalia?”

“No you idiot, toys, like trucks, blocks, dollies. You are done here; now move along,” as I hurry him away from the little kids. He and his friends went away laughing. I guess it takes all kinds in this world.

         
Then, there was Kelly. Four years old in a light-blue dress and a snow white ruffled apron. She came up to me and asked if I would watch her play the violin in a small concert in the next few minutes. The stage was around the central stairs and out of my view. Since there was no line waiting to see Santa now, which was rare, and I needed to stretch my legs I went over and joined the many people standing there to listen to the concert. I asked the woman running the program if I were a distraction standing there at the back watching the children play their violins? She said “no, the children would actually like it.” Kelly was there in the middle playing with twelve other children, ages 4 to 10. As they were playing, Kelly would stop and wave at me. The crowd thought it was great. Kelly ran up to me after the mini-concert and asked how she did? Even though I could not tell her violin playing from the eleven others on the stage, I smiled and said her playing sounded like angels singing.

Does anyone out there
really
like spiders? Here is a good story. I asked this little five year old girl what she wanted for Christmas. She told me all the normal things she wanted, like new dresses for her princess doll, and a bike. Then as a final thought, she added, “Tarantula!” I thought she was referring to a toy. “No,” she says, after I ask her did she mean a toy spider. "I want a real tarantula, with eight legs and everything." I look at the parents and they both nod, with concern clearly on their faces. The mother actually shivered from the thought of it. An older sister maybe seven years old nods her head also. I look into the soft blue eyes of a little girl with brown hair and shake my head. "Do you really want a bug for Christmas?" Mind you, I was used to talking to little children. The sister comes up to me and pulls me closer so she could be heard over the din of other children waiting in line. “It is not a bug,” she says, "It's an Arachnid!"

“What do you want for Christmas little one?” “Santa, I would like is world peace, the end of people being hungry, no more wars, and a truck; a red one.” While waiting for the next child in line, a little girl with her hair all-windblown walks around my chair and looks at the back of my head. She then comes around, stands in front of me, and says. “Santa you have long hair like me. Will you tie my hair for me?” She hands me a hair tie and turns around. I went one-step further; I braided her long hair.

 
“Now young sir, what do you want for Christmas?“

“Can you bring me weapons Santa?”