Unexpected Gifts

I already got the best Christmas present I’ll get this year, and it came from a 4-year-old girl I don’t know.

There’s a quiet, nearly secretive nonprofit in Oklahoma City that’s been operating for more than three decades. Anonymity is part of what makes it work, so there won’t be any spoilers here, but it’s important to know that the group collects Christmas wish lists from children who might not see many presents under the tree come Christmas morning – if there’s a tree at all.

It takes a lot of volunteers because there’s a lot of gift wrapping to be done and a lot of toys and clothes to be purchased, and a great many deliveries to be made. It takes a small army of Santas and a whole lot of helpers.

Wrapping gifts for that cause sounded like a pretty good idea, and since children can volunteer too, it occurred to me that it might make for a good project for the 10-and-under hockey team (Go Oil Kings!). The word was passed and a half-dozen families said, sure, we’ll come and help.

Mother Nature didn’t see it our way. The day before was cold and snowy, so volunteers did a lot of wrapping and no delivering. By the time our troop arrived, all the gifts had been sorted, wrapped, labeled and organized into bags with delivery information stapled to the top.

“What do you want us to do?” I asked innocently.

She fixed a look at me that said there was only one acceptable response to what she was about to say.

“We need Santas.”

Gulp.

“We’re way behind on deliveries.”

I was expecting an hour with scissors and tape.

“Go in there and he’ll get you suited up.”

And into the Santa room I went, where a jolly man named Bill was busily sorting wigs and beards and belts and boots. He’s been helping with this project for 26 years and he knows exactly what to do.

He passed out our pants and suspenders, jackets and boots. He gave instructions for securing the wig and beard. He helped us get belted and gloved, put on our hats, and handed us each a pair of glasses. He was running low on belly pillows and declared that I was in good enough Santa shape to get by without one. I took that in good spirit – I was trying to get into character.

Then Bill gave us instructions: Be sure to know each child’s name before you go in the house. Don’t forget about the bag of extra toys in case there are children there we didn’t know about. You’ll have some gift cards – slip one discreetly to the mother if it looks like they really need food or clothes. Have fun.

My band of helpers and I made several deliveries to families who looked both bewildered and delighted. But the last house – well, that was the one.

Santa’s helpers were already in the living room as I walked toward the front door, just a little worried that I’d have to fend off questions about where my sleigh was and why I didn’t use the chimney. Instead, a little girl, about 4 years old, dressed in pink with her hair in tight pigtails, raced through the legs of the adults and the older children and made a B-line for me.

“Santa!” she yelled with a voice full of glee. “You came! You came!” And she threw her arms around me with a hug for all time.

Merry Christmas to me.