I know I've shared my Christmas story before; maybe on my blog "My Mid-Crisis-Life" or on one of the blogs I dropped such as "Keyboard Confessionals." That may still be alive and waiting for my return.
But, the most memorable Christmases I've had were the simplest and may have been less about me, and more about those who warmed my heart and touched my soul.
While living in Bakersfield back in the early '90s, one of my co-workers asked me if I would play Santa Claus at her 2-year-old's Christmas party. I love to take on roles. Playing Santa to some children would be the most fun, I thought.
I was working as a school psychologist there at the time and I often worked with children in their homes if they were unable to attend classes at school. One child I had tested and spent time with was a young girl battling cancer. She'd had a brain tumor, but from time to time she was able to gather the strength to attend classes. Each time was like a reunion with her classmates and the staff. I got to know her and her family between her visits to the school and my visits to their home.
As we neared Christmas her strength was weakening and her health was getting much worse. On the Christmas Eve I was being Santa, I was expected to arrive at my friend's house for the party. I decided to drive by this little Hispanic girl's home to see how she was doing. I drove through town as Santa, much to the delight of passing children in the back of their parent's cars. I drove into the neighborhood where the family lived, where homes were small, modest, and close together. This was expected given the standing of many of the families I served.
I found their house and went to the door. Someone opened to let me in after hearing my knock. The Christmas tree brightened the living room. The house was full of family members, and all broke into big smiles when they saw me come in as Santa. The father brought me to the girl's room. I was eager to see her and was shocked to find her curled up on her bed, deep in a coma under her blankets.
She was clearly very sick. The father asked if I would let them take a picture of her with Santa. I lay down on the bed next to her and held her close while the family took photos of her and Santa on this, her last Christmas Eve. The family was tearful and smiling as I walked back to the front door to leave. I never saw the child again but learned she died within days of that night.
I continued to my friend's house to play Santa for her child and friends. I was welcomed into a modern ranch-style suburban home with lots of Christmas lights outside and in. There was a buffet of food set up for families and the children. There were many gifts around the base of the tree and the home was crowded with happy people in a festive mood. I took my place in the overstuffed chair near the tree. I called up each child to talk to them about what they wanted for Christmas. And I "Ho, Ho, Ho'd" loudly for each child. I was a great Santa. And then my part was done. I expected to go change into the clothes I'd brought with me but was told that I was not a part of the party. I was told I had to leave, back out the front door.
It was quiet and dark outside. I don't remember the music or happy sounds coming from the house. I was a bit stunned and very much alone.
But, as I drove home from way over on the west side of town where all the big, beautiful homes with double car garages and neat lawns were, I thought about the small house in the simple part of town where I had been given a lasting gift of love and kindness.
I thought of that little girl and her family as they held her and loved her on this last Christmas Eve night.
I saw how a simple gift of love can mean so much more than all the gifts and showy lights and music a child may get.
I will never forget that Christmas and the child who reminded me of the true meaning of Christmas. I laid down next to an angel that night and my heart was forever changed.
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