Daxohol: The Late Santa Claus and Christmas Fuzzies

If you are under 7 years of age...

STOP READING THIS IMMEDIATELY! AND WHY THE HELL DON'T YOUR PARENTS MONITOR YOUR INTERNET USE DAMMIT?! CLICK THE RED X NOW! THEN GO TO YOUR ROOM OR YOU'LL GET LUMPS OF CRAP IN YOUR STOCKING AND YOU'LL WISH YOU GOT COAL BECAUSE IT SMELLS BETTER THAN A HUNK OF SHIT!

Everyone else? Hi....eh heh...

No, no, the rotund ole elf isn't dead.

The man who volunteered to be Santa at the centre's community Christmas Party today is the Executive Director of one of the largest charitable social services orginizations in the city.

Our pageant had ended and there was no sign of Santa who was due to make is jolly entrance as soon as our pageant ended. The church's pastor led the crowd in a few carols to pass the time. Now, this crowd is not the type of crowd that can remain sitting for anything for very long. It also didn't take them much time to get antsy and wonder "where the hell is that damn Santa" so they could "get their presents and get downstairs to eat some food dammit". The kids don't think much differently. Some other staff members and I joked about this was fitting true North End style that Santa chose this pivotal moment to leave Mrs. Claus.

Mrs. Claus by the way was one of the senior ladies (now when I say senior, I mean senior). Oh yeah, and for all you swifties, Yup! Mrs. Claus had been there the whole time. Why? Well…because…Mrs. Claus…is…magic!

After a few minutes passed, it was decided that we go to plan B. What was plan B anyway? The pastor. He's always plan B. It's in his job description. His wonderful wife happened to remember where the centre had stashed a ratty old Santa costume. She dug it out and casually placed it in his office (which was right behind the santcuary stage). My boss took the microphone and proceeded to tell a very moving story that reminds her of what the true meaning of Christmas is to her.

Meanwhile, the late Santa had arrived, and was being curtly escorted to his dressing room by my co-worker who used to work for him. Yeah that was a funny little dynamic happening. Nothing like getting the chance to give a former boss shit about being late.

It was then my task to knock on the door of the pastor's office in an effort to halt the Santification process. I was afraid of three things. One, that he would ignore the knocking on the door, assuming it was one of our more annoying volunteers asking if he knew where she should sit because she just got there OR Two, he would ignore the knocking on the door because he was in his underwear god dammit, OR Three, he would answer the door in a frenzy wondering "what someone could possibly want NOW AND WHO GIVES A DAMN IF I'M IN MY UNDERWEAR!". Three was the most likely. And three was what occured.

He cracked the door open and poked his head out. The look on his face at that presice moment was one I'll never forget. His eyes were in a scowl of rage framed by tattered cotton batton that had been used far too many times by Santas over the last 40 years. Holding back my laughter, I told him he was off the hook, and Santa had arrived. He instantly smiled and in his sweet way that only belongs to him, said, "Oh! Well Great! Thanks Laura!"

He quickly got dressed again and by that time we were given the three minute warning that Santa would be entering the room. The Pastor decided it would be a good idea to sing couple rounds of "Here Comes Santa Claus" “just to practice” since we had exhausted all other Christmas carols this crowd could stumble through without words to follow. Well, a couple turned into a few as Santa was taking longer than he claimed to need. We thought it would be nice to give Mrs. Claus a “Here Comes Mrs. Claus” entrance while we waited for Santa arrive “from his long and traffic clogged trip”. .

Here was Mrs. Claus, getting up from the front row, walking slowly to the back of the room, only to turn around and walk all the way back to the front and take her seat on the stage as the community sang an exhausted and half assed at best “Here Comes Mrs. Claus”. I nearly blew out my spleen from laughing so hard.

Finally, Santa arrived. The crowd cheered. “Here Comes Santa Claus” was sung for what was probably the 20^th time, but this time it was enthusiastic and joyful.

I took my place as a dysfunctional little elf beside our slightly mixed up elderly Mrs. Claus and our tardy Santa had handed out care packages to the adults and gifts to the kids. Later, I assisted a “New Canadian” woman and her 3 small children that I see visiting our food pantry and around the neighbourhood. This family captured my heart back in the fall. They arrived late and fortunately or unfortunately, missed the late Santa debacle. The dining room only appeared to be full. But I managed to shuffle people around so that she and her little ones could sit to a hot home cooked turkey dinner. I scooped up her youngest (age 2) and held him as she arranged her other two. After they were settled I went upstairs and grabbed their gifts. After they finished their dinner, I took them upstairs and got to personally give them their gifts, and see their little eyes brighten as they opened their gifts. I fought back that tear that threatened to make a run for it. They all hugged me, and I helped her get the kids bundled up. I wished them a Merry Christmas and watched as they headed out.

I took a moment and was thankful for my job. I really don’t know how to end this. Merry Christmas!

Comments

I'm glad it worked out and Santa showed up. You had me cracking up though, I can imagine the chaos! LOL What a rewarding job you have... MERRY CHRISTMAS to you too!!

*HUGS*

Posted by: Karen | December 18, 2005 at 10:44 AM