Being Santa Claus : What I Learned About the True Meaning of Christmas (9781101600528) Read Free Page A

them that they were sure to love the toys the elves had made for them. My years of doing theater in school were paying off, as I became increasingly relaxed in the role.
    As the weeks went on, I saw more and more how powerful an effect that red suit had on people. Everyone I encountered just seemed to light up when they saw me coming—adults included. They became happier, kinder, and most of all, more generous. People would do the most surprising things when they spotted Santa coming around.
    It first happened to me one afternoon while returning from a toy drop-off appearance outside a supermarket.I noticed that the fuel gauge on the red van’s dashboard showed nearly empty. Dressed entirely as Santa from head to toe, I pulled into a gas station at the corner of a major intersection to fill up the tank. I grabbed the nozzle and turned to open the gas cap on the van.
    “Hold on there! Hold on there!” came a voice from behind me. Turning, I saw the gas station owner, an older gentleman, walking toward me as quickly as he could from the cashier’s office. “Santa’s not going to pump his own gas at
my
station.”
    “Oh, don’t worry about it,” I told him politely. “It’s no trouble.”
    “No, no, no,” he said, grabbing the pump. “Please, let me.” As he started the fill-up he asked, “Are you the Santa that’s on the radio?”
    “I am,” I said. “I’m the one who delivers the toys.”
    “Well,” he said and smiled, “you do so many wonderful things for the kids, this tank of gas is on me. It’s my Christmas gift to you.”
    I felt so touched, and I wanted to do something nice in return for this kind gentleman. But what? Then I thought of something. “I’ll be right back,” I told him.
    I walked over to the corner in full Santa regalia and started waving to cars as they drove by. People honked, waved, and yelled cheerfully, “Hi, Santa!” A couple of cars even drove in for gas, which is what I was hoping would happen. I figured it could only help this man’sbusiness to have Santa Claus standing in front of the station.
    I didn’t know it at the time, but I would have many different versions of that experience in the years to follow. There was the time I was on break from my Santa-in-residence role at a busy New Hampshire mall. The lines at the food court were packed with hungry holiday shoppers, but the folks there sent me to the front of the line so I could get a much-needed snack. Or the time I stopped to get food at a drive-thru in San Diego, and when I reached the window and the gal handed me my order, she said, “Oh, and the family in the car in front of you wanted you to have these,” handing me a box of milk and cookies.
    And then there was the time I walked past two men outside a bar who seemed on the verge of an all-out brawl. I wasn’t in Santa gear at the time, but I’d come to resemble Mr. Claus so much by that point that even grown-ups got that look of childlike amazement on their faces when they saw me.
    “Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” I asked kindly.
    They both stopped and looked at me. You could almost feel the tension drain out of the situation as they backed away from each other and relaxed their fists. “No problem, Santa,” one said. “We’re cool. I’m not going to fight anyone with Santa around!”
    At the same time that I saw how deeply the icon of Santa Claus affects people, I started to notice that beingSanta Claus was changing me in ways big and small. I suddenly felt as though I had to honor the “purity” of Santa Claus and not do anything that might tarnish his image. Prior to that Christmas of 1992 when I first played Santa, I had been a habitual smoker. But once I put on the red suit, I would not allow myself to have a cigarette, no matter how much I was craving one or whether I thought no one could see me. I simply did not want a child to see Santa smoking, even if just by accident. Pretty soon I would do the same for drinking alcohol in