You see, when I was little I met him. It was back when I was sarting to question whether or not Santa was real, back when we didn't have a whole lot of money and there were often rumors that there would be no Christmas that year. I didn't understand. Why did it matter how much money we had? Didn't Santa bring toys to good girls and boys?
Every year there were gifts though. Every year there was food, food we didn't usually have, food Santa brought. Then I met him. I remember exactly what he looked like. His long snowy beard. His cheerful smile. Levi's and cowboy boots. He said the red suit was just for Christmas eve.
Ten years later I was away from home at school. I had been working and saving all year to earn enough money to buy some really nice Christmas presents for my family. I was so excited! I could just see the looks on their faces as they opened nice, expensive gifts. Then one day my mom called and told me about a family who's house had burned down. They didn't have anything, they were staying with family. She wanted to buy them something. All of a sudden my Christmas plans changed. I told her I had saved all year to buy gifts for the family, I had saved hundreds of dollars and I wanted to use it for this family. We bought them all toys, clothes, and a box of food. We wrapped everything to deliver Christams Eve. That night we snuck up to the house they were staying in, put the boxes in their driveway and hurried away to a secret hiding place to watch. I watched a boy open the door and look around, spot the boxes and call his family. I watched the kids jump up and down with joy and excitement. I watched the parents hug each other with relief. I had become Santa.
Years later when we lived in Indiana we went to the temple monthly. It was a big sacrifice for us, living paycheck to paycheck as we did. That month John said we wouldn't be able to buy groceries that week if we went to the temple. We decided to go anyway. The morning we were to leave we found a box of food and wrapped Christmas gifts on the porch. Santa had paid us a visit.
We don't make a big halabaloo about Santa around here, because that isn't how Santa works. In the stories he comes in the night, when everyone is asleep. Santa works anonymously. Secerts acts of service. Gifts left on the porch. Boxes of food. A Christmas Jar with money inside. Santa is real because I am Santa. You are Santa. I will believe in Santa until the day I die. I will be Santa until the day I die.
