Christmas is that time of year for good stories, and I believe this is one. I once told the story about the best Christmas I ever had. Some of you may remember, it was about the Boy Scouts bringing me and Mom a Christmas tree on Christmas Eve: that was it for us that Christmas, but this story tops it. I’ll post my best Christmas ever in a few days. Anyway, I’ve been playing Santa Claus for a preschool program called “Head Start” for a while, but this one year I got floored. (If you’re too stiffed shirt — stop, you will not enjoy this.)
I got to school for their traditional breakfast with Santa. It was early and the children were just filtering in when I drove up and came face-to-face with this particular young lad — a preschooler walking to the door with his mother. I was in my Santa suit, so the lad was at ease to say, “SANTA!!! They said you’d be coming here today, and I got you a gift.” I responded in character, “Merry Christmas Son; thank you.” (We’ll call this young lad Billy for the story.)
Billy’s Mother suggested, “Since Santa’s here why don’t you and he go inside together, and I’ll see you later. Billy looked at me with searching eyes asking, “Where’s your reindeer?” I answered, “Only on Christmas Eve Billy; other than that day I’ll use whatever transportation’s available to get me where I’ve got to go.
Once inside the school, I asked Billy which way should we go, upstairs or down – to make conversation; then Billy looked at me puzzled, “You don’t know do you? Down Santa, we go downstairs.” So, we went downstairs, and some teachers greeted us saying, “Santa you’re here.” Again, I said Merry Christmas and after some exchanges and instruction, I let them know I was going upstairs to let the other teachers know I was here, but Billy interrupted reminding me, “Santa your gift!”
I let Billy know that it was okay to leave the gift he had for me right here until the end of the day; that way I wouldn’t forget it, but the look on his face after I said what I said, was the look of total rejection with his head bowed down and his bottom lip poked out obviously hurt by that suggestion, and my re-action about his request. His teachers asked him what was wrong, but he paused, and it was a very noticeable, and deliberate pause; answering under his breath, “Nothing”, but of course we all knew different.
As I searched for the camera room, I was met and given instruction for the photo opp. Now settled in, and after about sixty children giving me hugs as I played Santa; with me giving them candy canes, asking them their names, would they like to take a picture with me, what they wanted for Christmas, look at the camera, and on the count of three say Merry Christmas, and so on, and so forth, Billy’s class came into the picture room.
When it was Billy’s turn to get his picture taken, he raced up to me; “SANTA!” reaching me all excited, like he’d just found his best friend, and I was just as excited along with him. I went through my routine with Billy as I did with every child but when I asked him what he wanted for Christmas, he stared at me and question, “Santa, why do you have a beard?” And my answer was, “Where I live it keeps me warm;” then Billy shouted, “I want a car!!! a toy car. I love cars, I play with the cars here at school all the time but, I can’t take any of them home.” Next, he said, “I don’t have one, so I want a car to play with at home for Christmas.” (I shouldn’t have to tell any of you my reply, but in case I do,) I told him, “We’re going to work hard on that son,” as I wink, winked in the direction of the staff.
After about sixty more children things begin to slow down. A teacher came up to me saying Billy had to go; his mom was in a hurry, but he was so insistent on giving you this gift. We told him don’t worry we’ll give your gift to Santa Claus — we promise, we won’t forget.
I opened up the poorly wrapped gift, and after seeing what was inside, my chin fell to the floor. Inside of a partially covered tissue box was a car; a car submerged inside bundles of tissue; the kind of car Billy could play with for hours. I glanced back and forth between the car and the teachers, and to everyone’s surprise, then they explained to me in shock.
They were shaking their heads telling me — all the children got a Santa package yesterday, and we put a toy in each package. “We knew Billy’s love of cars, so we put a car in his package – that one!!! but don’t keep it because we’ll give it back, we’re going to give that car back to him.” I was stunned and lost for words. All I could say was okay, but I wanted that car. Then I mumbled to myself, “Don’t give this one back to Billy — get another; find another child outside of this school to give this one too.”
Yah see, Billy gave up the thing he loved the most, the thing he wanted more than anyone could imagine, the thing he wished for — dreamed of, and spoke about every day, but gave it away to someone he considered special. It didn’t matter to him that he was going to miss what he loved so much. The only thing that mattered was he felt Santa would love the car just as he, and Santa did.
Billy didn’t feel he was losing anything as long as he could make a difference in Santa’s life; it was about how he was felling in his young heart — that unconditional love he was too young to explain or understand; those feelings inside of him being worth more; him wanting to give a gift to Santa, even though the gift was all he ever wanted and loved, but thought Santa would like also; young Billy cared not how he’d feel later in a quiet moment of self-pleasure.
What a lesson we were all getting, and it was being taught by a preschooler who wasn’t there. His mother came to pick him up early, and take him someplace else. Thank God because none of us would’ve been capable of acting as spontaneous as we were — all emotional and sensitive; caught inside such a penetrating the moment. Plus, with all that going on, we may have done the wrong thing.
Giving back that car would have crush Billy, I said misty-eyed. You can’t give that car back to Billy if you understand absolute, and unrestricted love; if you’ve ever loved someone with all your heart and soul, if that someone you love meant more to you than your own wants, desires, needs and happiness, and it’s only their joy that’ll make you feel meaningful. That was all that mattered most if you understood what Billy was doing. Some of us never will get it, or even think to do such a courageous act of love. Billy gave more that Christmas then Santa; it kind of reminds me of the Widow’s mite – (Mark 12:41-44).
My prayers and many thanks go out to Billy this Christmas and for all of my Christmas’ forever more. What a young man. What an example for all of us, and Mankind.
Merry Christmas everyone; especially you Billy for making mine this year and every year to come from now on special — with the greatest gift of all, the gift to love someone.
Merry Christmas and praise be to God for His sacred, blessed, holy and beloved Son Jesus, my Lord, my Savior; my God. Merry Christmas everyone, have a safe and prosperous New Year; love to you all.
Gaidi
Word of note: Love is a choice not an emotion, and if someone chooses to love you — cherish it, there’s no better feeling, and you’ll miss it if they ever chose to stop.
Gaidi