Thursday, December 22, 2011

A Letter to Santa


A couple of years after the kids' father, Danny, died it was Christmas time and time to go to the mall and see Santa. It was a double edged sword for my kids because it was the same mall they had celebrated all the fun, the excitement of Santa with their dad, but they still didn't want to miss it. I dressed them up in festive sweaters and dresses so they could sit on Santa's lap and ask for anything they wanted. I told them to ask for anything, to think big, to take their time, to allow themselves to be the innocent children they were supposed to be instead of the tiny forty year olds they had become. I encouraged those who could write to write down what they wanted because our Santa had a mail box where he kept all the children's letters. We had the same Santa for years at our local mall. He had a real beard, a kind smile and a large lap. As far as Santas went he was as good as it gets.
Going anywhere with my kids was no easy task. The good news was we were a big, boisterous family. The bad news was, we were a big, boisterous family. I had multiple car seats for years stuffed in, all over our family van. By the time this trip arrived only Elizabeth remained in a booster seat. The logistics of coats, hats, mittens, boots and scarves were a nightmare. No one had a matching set of anything, one kid always refused to sip their coat, don their hat or tie their shoes. By the time I got everyone in the car and buckled, I was thoroughly exhausted. Heavy sighs emanated from me as I took a moment at the wheel to just sit and gather myself, so I would have the strength, once at the mall, to undo everything I had just done. It wasn't a long trip as far as the driving went, but no trip with all the kids was an easy one. I recently told a story to my friend about how much effort went in to just getting to the store when we lived in an apartment that was a 3 story walk up.
We got to the to the mall and went to stand in line to see old St. Nick. It was stifling hot and the kids were a little afraid, as they were every year, and there was lots of fidgeting. I fussed over them straightening shirts, combing hair, generally just checking every child for small imperfections that could be fixed before the picture was taken.
Finally we got to the front and the children got their turn on Santa's lap, sitting asking for the things they were sure I could not afford. One by one they sat, whispered into the ear of the big guy and then patiently stood to the side to allow the next sibling their shot.
The last to go was Thomas. He stood nervously hand wringing, holding onto the crayon scribed letter he had written to Santa. Thomas, not really being afraid of Santa himself, hopped right up and sat on his lap. Santa beamed at Tom, smiling and asking what Tom wanted this year as he big gift. Tom leaned in close to Santa's ear and whispered his heart's desire. "Oh my,"Santa replied looking perplexed. I saw this and immediately wondered what on earth my little guy had asked for. Santa sat and thought for a moment. He motioned for Mrs. Clause to come and get me. I had been standing just out of range of the camera and I gathered all of our coats and hats and walked over to Santa. Santa looked almost sad for a moment when he said, "Thomas has asked for a most unusual gift. It seems he worries for you. He asked me to find you a husband this year for Christmas. He says you are lonely and he wants you to be happy again." I stood looking into the eyes of my young son, and for the first time noticed the worry on his face for his mom. I stood unable to speak at first and then told Santa that we had lost their father to cancer and we were on on our own now. I stood watching as my youngest son take his one chance with Santa, the one time of year when he could ask for anything and use it to ask for something for me. Tears filled my eyes. My lip had begun to quiver and I turned away long enough to gather myself. I felt Mrs. Clause' arm around me as she comforted me in this incredible moment of gracious giving. As I turned to look at Santa in order to try and maybe change the subject or encourage Tom to ask for something else Santa did the most remarkable thing. "Hmmmm," Santa said, "Thomas, I know you want your mom to be happy, but I think if anyone is going to get her a new husband it might be better if she find the right man. I trust your mom to meet a nice fellow one day. In the mean time I want you to put your wish in my letter box and we'll see what we can do. So since we know that matter is in very capable hands, what else would you like for Christmas?" Tom's face lit up like a Christmas tree thinking he had taken care of his mom and he went on to ask for trucks and army guys and games. As Santa listened to Tom's list of toys I mouthed the words "Thank You" to him. He nodded and smiled. Once Tom was finished it was time for the family picture and everyone sat around Santa as Mrs. Clause snapped the photo. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my feet as I watched with such pride as my crew, my darlings smiled for the camera.
I squeezed my darling little boy until the stuffing almost came out of him. I hugged and kissed him and said "I love you so much! We will be OK, I promise." Tom looked up at me with a tiny smile and said, "I know you are all by yourself, I just want someone to love you back."
"One day, when I least expect it, someone will love me back. But for now, I have you!" And I hugged him again. Tom giggle and wiggled away from me, "Mom, I know..."
The other children had witnessed Tom's act of selflessness for his old mom. We all had a bounce to our step as we made our way around the mall, stopping at the food court, buying treats at the stands in the middle of the isle. We went home that night and could barely contain the smile's from our faces.
That night when I put my children to bed, all clean with teeth sparkling and jammies on, I watched as they drifted off to sleep, happy and sated. For the first time in forever I was not lonely, I was only happy, content knowing I had everything I would ever need. That night when I prayed it was all "Thank you's" to God for my children, for Christmas miracles, and for Santa's kindness and compassion for a single mom and a generous little boy who wanted nothing more this Christmas than for his mom to be happy.

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