That's peter. Isn't he darling? And Santa of course. Why do I have a picture of Santa in a late February blog? Quite honestly because when it was time to write about Santa I was getting home late with gift-wrap worn hands and crashing into bed only to wake with a gasp the next morning and start the cycle over. Now, in late February, I find that writing my blog is a great means of avoiding all of the orders that should be written. So I search through my photos and find my next assignment, and here nestled between Valentines day and Easter, is my Santa blog. I chose a picture that had Peter in it because the ones I had of Charlotte, Peter's sister were not quite as good. Peter, Charlotte, and their new brother Calvin whom they adopted from China in the fall of 2008 just moved to Eugene. Their mom and dad, Jenny and John relocated for work related reasons. It always makes me sad to lose a great family from our community. I feel sometimes like we're building a puzzle here, but the pieces are made of clay rather than cardboard, so there is some room for bending and melding to each other, and when a piece is removed, it takes with it a little of us stuck to the sides, and leaves a little of it behind with the rest of us. I know it makes our community richer to have so much ebb and flow, but I do hate to see the good ones go. The Fords are a good family, thoughtful, active contributors to their community. We'll miss them. The other side of the picture of course, is Santa. Our Santa's helper is none other than my husband Don. He is forever going on about how dreadful his beard is. How he doesn't look as good as this Santa or that Santa. I tell you though, when a child walks up to see Santa, they are not analyzing the quality of his beard. They are completely drawn into the sincerity in his eyes. Don is a sincere Santa. He takes extra measures to make them feel comfortable and unafraid, he gets down from the chair and plays with them at the train table, and when he asks them what they would like to have for Christmas, it is obvious that he really cares about the answer. As they leave he gives each child a task to do on Christmas eve, and whether it is leaving carrots out for the reindeer, or cookies and milk for him, they all walk a little taller just for having been asked. We've done Santa for five years at the store now, and the experiences are priceless. From the fill in Santa who came with his beard on upside down, to the child who insisted that he "didn't want that big red guy to come in his house!" Every year we groan and wonder if we really want to do this again, every year in the middle of the season, Don is sure he does not, and uncertain as to how I roped him into it, and every year after it is over, it has the glow of an unwrapped Christmas tree. Balls are broken, tinsel hangs askance, but the lights are on, the appetites are sated, the work is done, and the magic remains. Happy memories, snapshots, big sighs, and a determination to enjoy the fruit of ones labors. And the children, my Lord, the children! There are many that if they were not accompanied by their parents I would not recognize. Rarely do I get to see them all spit polished and shined. Usually, I get them at 2:00 in the afternoon with rings of sweat and dust from the dragon park on their hot little necks, ice cream from Serendipity's running down their chins, Saturday bed head, and grass stains on their knees. Santa is another story. They come draped in velvet and bows, red and black plaids, button down shirts and mini Stetson's. Santa gets the Sunday best. And they glow! They know how darling they look, and that they are there on an important mission.
Well now, Easter is on it's way, and here I sit all prepped for Christmas. Before I get ahead of myself, I should put this blog away. It just would not do to have me excited to see the plush reps plop open their Christmas catalogs next month. There, that's better, I'm gagging just a little bit already.
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