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

public, or behaving in any way that was anything other than above reproach. Santa is never unkind, or irritated, or even stressed out. As I interacted more and more with children as Santa Claus, I felt a growing responsibility to maintain Santa’s unblemished image in their hearts and minds.
    I never forgot my brief encounter with the kind gas station owner that day. That was when I realized that Santa Claus isn’t just about giving out presents. He actually inspires people to be more giving themselves. Santa Claus is pure goodness, and so he brings out the best in people. He is a symbol of everything that is wonderful, hopeful, selfless, wholesome, and magical about humanity.
    I began to wonder for the first time if it was more than a series of random events that got me into that red suit. Perhaps fate had given me my white beard and hair for very good reason.

 
TWO

Santa Sal Saves Christmas
     
    W ITH CHRISTMAS OF 1992 BARELY A WEEK away, I thought my enjoyable stint as Santa would come to a quiet end. Little did I know that before the season was over, as a result of a radio disc jockey’s prank gone awry, I would be called upon to save the spirit of Christmas for one special little girl—and the faith of listeners throughout Charleston whose hearts she had captured.
    Her name was Fallon. Her father, a local businessman like me, advertised on the radio station. He owned a car repair shop and tow truck, and would drive around at rush hour helping Q95 listeners with car trouble. Being a long-time friend of the radio station, this mechanic enthusiastically allowed Michael D. to call his young daughter Fallon at home in the mornings, talk to her about Christmas and Santa and what presents shewanted, and then broadcast this adorable seven-year-old’s commentary repeatedly throughout the day.
    To end each call, Michael D. would try to phone Santa Claus at the North Pole to see if the big guy would talk to Fallon. But every time they made the attempt, they could never get through to him and would instead run into some obstacle concocted by the DJs. Meanwhile, all the residents of Charleston quickly became enchanted with cute little Fallon and hoped she would get a chance to talk to Santa Claus before Christmas.
    Everything went smoothly until the morning of Christmas Eve, when Michael D. phoned Fallon for their daily call. It began with Michael D. asking, “So, Fallon, where are your parents?”
    “In the kitchen,” she answered.
    “And where are you?”
    “I’m in the living room.”
    “Is that where your Christmas tree is, Fallon?” Michael D. asked excitedly. “With all the presents?”
    “Yeah, the presents are under the tree.”
    “So they left you alone with all the presents?” he asked in mock surprise.
    “Yes…”
    “Well,” Michael D. said mischievously, “why don’t you pick out one of the presents for you and see what it is?”
    “I can’t do that!” Fallon said. “I have to wait till Christmas!”
    I was driving around Charleston at that moment (in non-Santa mode) listening to the radio. I figured that Michael D. would pretend to call Santa on Fallon’s behalf to report how well behaved she’d been in the face of temptation, or something to that effect. But despite Mike being such a good-hearted guy personally, he played a shock jock of sorts on the air (whose ratings went up whenever drama ensued), so things went a little differently than I’d expected.
    “Don’t you want to know what it is?” Michael D. asked. “I do! Just tear a little bit of the corner off one of the wrapped presents and take a tiny peek. It’ll be fine.”
    The next thing we heard was Fallon exclaiming, “Oh, my gosh, it’s a beautiful sweater!”
    Michael D. sounded shocked. “Oh, no! You opened the present?”
    “Just a tiny corner like you said I should, so I could see it.”
    Fallon began to get a little upset, so Michael D. said reassuringly, “Well, Fallon, it’s Christmas Eve, and maybe we can