Santa's Diary

Sleep

2012-01-08T19:08:00.000-08:00

Although I don't get sick, I do get tired. In dealing with our visitors, an all the elves down with the flu, I grew so tired I started nodding off while drinking my hot chocolate last night. I went to bed, and slept through until it was almost time for Mass. I made it - but started nodding off during Father's homily - and he is a fine preacher.

This afternoon I spent more time visiting the sick elves. Then I had some papers to complete for the end of the season.

Now, I sit here, ready for bed again.

Good night all.

More flu

2012-01-07T19:13:00.001-08:00

I will continue the tale of our visitors ... but I've spent much of the day helping to care for sick elves! The flu has spread and we have some very sick folk.

Perhaps tomorrow.

Unexpected visitors

2012-01-06T17:22:00.000-08:00

Usually the workshop is hard to find. There's a special magic about the place that seems to fool people's eyes.

It was the smell that gave us away.

I was busy finishing up my Feast of the Epiphany activities, and the elves were preparing a celebration for the end of this year's Christmas season. Cookies, gingerbread, and other sweet delicacies were being baked, and the scents of those delicacies wafted across the ice fields. It was a balmy day by our standards - -12 degrees with occasional light snow, but not much, and no wind to speak of.

Suddenly an alarm bell rang.

Guard elves rushed out to see four figures walking across the ice toward the workshop buildings. It was too late to stop them, or even to trick them.

Gleegul, the head of security, order the intruders to halt, then led them to the town constable's office. There, the visitors, who turned out to be four young men, were questioned.

All this was reported to me when I returned from my trip.

I decided to meet with them.

When I walked into the constable's office, the four men looked at me with a mixture of disbelief, and what I can best describe as defeat. except for one fellow who smiled in a way that made me uneasy.

"I told you there was a chance," one of them said.

"He doesn't prove anything," another said.

"I'm not here to prove anything, " I said, smiling bravely. "I'm just here to welcome you."

The third young man advanced toward me, his hand out.

"David George," he said as I grasped his hand.

"Nicholas," I replied.

The other three came forward, shook, and announce their names.

Tom George.

Bill Wendell.

Nick Parmelee.

(more tomorrow)

Flu!

2012-01-05T14:34:00.000-08:00

Santa sometimes gets run down - but he rarely gets sick.

Alas, that's not the case of the elves.

Just as were were readying for the final celebration of the season, the Feast of the Epiphany, a number of the elves came down with the flu.

They will be fine - we have excellent doctors here at the North Pole - but that means Mrs. Claus and I have had to help even more with preparing the gifts for Epiphany. I took a break to grab a cup of hot chocolate and update this blog , and I notice red paint on my fingers as I type.

Hmm. Seems to be some in my beard as well!

The Naughty List Lasts Only a Year

2012-01-02T10:01:00.000-08:00

For many years now we've had a New Year's tradition: We burn the Naughty List.

Everyone who was on the list for Christmas gets a new chance to start over in the new year.

It all started when the list was much smaller - the world had fewer people, and fewer people identified as Christians who observed Christmas. When cleaning up after Christmas each year I just tossed the Naughty List into my fire place.

The Nice lists, by the way, I always saved. I still have them all!

Over the years, though, the Naughty List got longer. And the work began to involved more than me - the elves came to keep up with the demand.

So we started a little ceremony of burning the list. Gradually it became part of our New Year's celebration, and the list would be tossed on the bonfire we built to mark the new year.

The lists got longer - alas - and the fire became bigger, as did the amount of smoke it produced. We became more conscious of the pollution we were causing. And then, when there were planes and satellites up in the air, we realized that the smoke might be spotted and the site of the North Pole Workshop discovered.

So we stopped burning them on the big fire. Instead, the list was spit up among all the homes and workshops for burning, and a representative list was burned as part of the New Year's celebration.

Now, of course, the list is all computerized: No burning needed. Just hit "Delete."

We have kept the burning tradition alive, though.

And so it was on New Year's Eve when the elves, Mrs. Claus, and I all gathered to mark the new year's arrival we had a nice fire in the main hall, and I tossed a representative Naughty List onto the fire.

So all you boys and girls have a fresh start. Get on the Nice List this year!

January 1 - A Gift of Mead

2012-01-01T09:58:00.000-08:00

Sometimes Santa gets gifts. Last might I enjoyed one.

My bush pilot friend, Zbigniew Ting, made a delivery here December 24. He gave my darling wife a gift for me to hide under our tree.

I finally got to open my gifts after all my deliveries - and amid all the wonderful things given to me by my family and the good elves, and in addition to the many delightful gifts sent me by the children of the world, there was one the one from Zbigniew.

A bottle of mead.

Honey wine.

Seems he was in Western New York and found a place that produced fine mead. Knowing my fondness for this sweet drink, he bought me a bottle.

Last night to toast the New Year I opened the bottle and had a glass of mead.

Ah. Thank you Zbigniew. You must stop by for a glass yourself.

Fooled!

2011-12-26T07:29:00.001-08:00

What a month.

So many orders to fill.

So many problems in the factories that caused delays.

So many elves down with the flu!

So many malls and centers and other places to visit.

And then there was my feast day.

There were whispers and winks and plans afoot indeed. But not for me.

It was all for Krampus!

You see, some of the elves were saddened to hear that children fear him. They know what a good soul he really is, and they thought that unfair. So they planned a party for him.

After we got back from our St. Nicholas Day deliveries, he and I headed over to my house. I was expecting some sort of surprise. And when we walked into my home, sure enough, elves jumped out of every possible corner, hiding place, even the rafters, yelling, "Surprise!"

It took me a second to realize that their cries were all directed at Krampus.

I laughed with delight (and relief), and joined a chorus of, "For he's a jolly good fellow...."

Then the kitchen elves carried in cakes, cookies, pies, candies, and warming beverages.

I was tired, but I found the energy to joyfully join in on the celebration. And Krampus, well, I've never seen him blush so much.

The elves gave him a switch and a lump of coal as a joke, then they gave him a new coat, a new hat, a new pair of boots, all to help him stay comfortable and warm.

He was pleased. So was I.

Merry Christmas to all!

Prefeast whispers, and Krampus arrives

2011-12-05T17:00:00.000-08:00

The whispers continue. And the winks. And the sudden silences when I approach.

I'm sure they are up to something to mark my feast day.

But first, the feast itself.

I will be heading out shortly to place candy and coins and some small gifts in shoes for children. Krampus - some people call him Black Peter - arrived two days ago to join me for our annual excursion. He has coal and switches for those who have not been on their best behavior.

Krampus really is a jolly soul - far more jolly than some folks try to picture him. He cares about the children just as I do. And I love sitting with him and remembering our many travels.

I also enjoy the visit back to Holland, where the feast is still celebrated. They have such fine hot chocolate!

Besides, it will take my mind off just what my loved ones here are plotting!

There may be plans afoot

2011-12-03T18:23:00.000-08:00

My feast day is coming up Tuesday.

Normally Mrs. Claus and I celebrate it privately, except for getting to Mass, with a nice dinner the next day. The actual day, of course, I'm busy delivering gifts.

But this year I've heard some whispering among the elves about the date, with some quick glances at me, and then some giggles.

I suspect they are planning something.

It's not an special anniversary year. I entered my current way of life in 343, so it's only been 1,668 years.

Part of me is tempted to steal away to some place where they won't fin me, but that would not be fair, I suppose.

I guess I'll just have to smile and enjoy whatever they have planned.

Maybe it will even be nothing at all - that would be a joke on me!

Black Friday Is Almost Here

2011-11-24T09:39:00.000-08:00

Somewhere along the way, they created Black Friday as a way to encourage sales in stores.

I don't mind store owners making money, but it has gone too far.

Long lines. Shoppers camping out. People forced to work on what should be a day for gathering and relaxing as a family.

And they keep extending the shopping season earlier and earlier. To before Halloween.

The focus is on shopping - not celebrating the holy day of Christmas and the birth of Jesus.

I also don't like what it has done to my role in Christmas.

In the old days, I would arrive on Thanksgiving Day. Ah, the parades, the celebration, the children rejoicing at my arrival.

Now, I'm being told to arrive weeks before Thanksgiving to visit with the children - and to inspire their parents and guardians to spend money on photographs.

I come for the children. But I am saddened by this cheapening of Christmas.

Santa Claus, SFO

2011-08-14T14:00:00.000-07:00

Many years ago I met a holy man who loved Christmas.

Francis Bernadone of the town of Assisi in Italy.

He created the first living Nativity Scene. His hope was to help bring that Holy Night to life for people who could never travel to the Holy Land to see where it all took place.

I was not fully into my own Christmas ministry at that time. Christians celebrated the Birth of our Lord, but not with all the gifts and traditions they do today. I was not the many in the red suit flying around on Christmas Eve yet.

But Francis, how he loved the Lord, and how he celebrated His Birth!

I did not witness that first Nativity Scene. When we met, it was actually before he had created it.

He was bringing food to a family of lepers. I was there visiting them as well, bringing them some clothes.

Francis and I smiled at each other, but spent our time there focusing on the family: A mother and father and three children, including an infant. The mother and father cried at our gifts. And then they asked us to take their newborn. He was the only one not yet infected. They begged us to take him to a place where he would be safe, to a family who could raise him.

Francis knew of such a family. We left together and took the child to the couple, who longed for a child of their own but were unable to have one.

Francis told them the story of the leper family. He showed them the child.

They were understandably afraid.

The baby may not have shown any sign of the disease at that point, but what if he did have it and it manifested later? And what if he infected them?

But then the father - and I remember this well - said, "If loving a child takes us home to God sooner, then so be it."

Francis and I parted ways that night. I never met him again on earth. But I did return to that home many times over the years. The boy grew up healthy and strong, and was a joy to his adoptive parents. Years later, all three joined what was known as the Third Order of St. Francis, which Francis created just for people like that loving couple. It's now known as the Secular Franciscan Order.

I also later joined - many years later, when we finally had enough guests and elves at the North Pole to form a Fraternity.

And every time I see a Nativity Scene, I think back to Francis and his many gifts to the world.

Pax et bonum!

Santa Season at the Mall

2010-12-30T09:59:00.000-08:00

My good friend Lee, who has helped me with this blog (which I have sadly neglected) has completed six years of being one of my special helpers at a mall near where he lives.

He tells me stories about the children and their parents, and about how it has affected his celebration of the Christmas season. But he still keeps Christ at the center of it - as do I.

He even wrote a poem/prayer I like:

A Mall Santa's Prayer

As I hold each precious child
let me treat each one
with the love and care I'd show
Your most holy Son.

Decorations coming down

2009-12-31T07:13:00.000-08:00

A friend e-mailed me expressing sadness that neighbors had already taken down their Christmas decorations.

Yes, sometimes that saddens me, too. We are still in the Christmas season. The Feast of the Epiphany is not until January 3 - that's the traditional day to take down decorations in many families. Others wait until the Christmas season is fully over with the Baptism of Jesus (this year January 10).

And under the old Julian calendar, Christmas is not even until January 7 anyway!

Up here at the North Pole some decorations stay up well into January.

But there may be reasons for taking down decorations earlier. The tree or wreaths have dried out, and pose a fire hazard. Family is only around for a few more days, and it's easier with everyone available to help.

And for some people, it's really basically only a secular holiday anyway.

After all, in the end they're only decorations. Christmas is a state of mind and heart. I celebrate Christmas year round.

After all, the baby who's birth we are celebrating never leaves us.

So sing a Christmas Carol in June! Send out a Christmas greeting in September. Hang a Christmas decoration in March!

Catching up on mail (and some poems)

2009-12-26T06:33:00.000-08:00

Things have begun to slow down - though I still have more deliveries.

But I'm also beginning to get the post-Christmas season mail.

I receive a number of thank you notes (remember, with some families and some countries I start delivers December 65!). I am always happy to receive such notes. They also help the writers to get a head start on the "Nice List" for next year! (Yes, that list begins to be compiled December 25 - so how you act on Christmas Day could affect next Christmas!)

I also got a card and some poems from my friend Lee, who helps me with this blog. They arrived before Christmas, and while the card got hung, the poems were put aside.

I looked at them today.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

He has an odd sense of humor.

Mrs. Claus liked

Aunt Ann’s old fruitcake
arrived for Christmas again
(no, not Uncle Ed)

There were a few that mentioned me and some of my dear friends.

Next year, Santa, please
along with your reindeer bring
a pooper scooper

Now now. They are very well behaved when it comes to that.

finding stale cookies
Santa raids the cheapskate’s fridge –
ah, a pecan pie

While I do enjoy pecan pie, I would never actually go in anyone's refrigerator (unless they left a note inviting me to get something out of it).

half-eaten cookie
clutched in Santa’s stiff fingers –
wicked witch cackles

prone beneath the tree
an unconscious Santa Claus –
Ned’s booby trap worked

Oh my. Of course, such things would never really work.

practical joke with
Ex Lax explains why reindeer’s
nickname was “Dumper”

There is no "Dumper" among the reindeer.

Clem’s birthday shotgun
provided the Christmas feast –
Rudolph’s final flight

Rudolph was not happy, Lee. He might visit you - without a pooper scooper!

They were all meant in jest, of course. I got a chuckle out of them.

Besides, Lee has also written some of my favorite Christmas-related poems, including

A Mall Santa's Prayer

As I hold each precious child
let me treat each one
with the love and care I'd show
Your most holy Son.

Amen to that. I try to keep that in mind in all that I do in this blessed ministry to children.

My work goes on ... but first, Merry Christmas!

2009-12-25T04:29:00.001-08:00

Christmas deliveries done. A few days to rest. The reindeer are all back in the stable sound asleep.

Mrs. Claus was waiting, as she does each year. We sat together in silence, holding hands like young folks in love.

Ah, but we are in love, and we are young at heart.

Merry Christmas to all. I hope you enjoy the gifts.

Two days before the big trip

2009-12-23T08:34:00.000-08:00

Two more days!

The sack is mostly packed.

The sleigh has been checked and polished.

The reindeer are anxiously pacing in their stalls.

The elves are working overtime.

I am dashing about visiting places across the world, stopping home to read letters and to check the list - more than twice! - and lending a hand with toys.

Mrs. Claus is fretting as she does every year. "You'll wear yourself out. You're not getting any younger."

Ah, but at heart I am! I'm like a child on Christmas Eve just waiting to see what's under the tree the next morning.

Two more days. I can't wait.

Happy Feast Day to Me!

2009-12-06T15:53:00.000-08:00

Today is my feast day.

For those not of a Catholic persuasion, a saint's fest day is not their birthday - it's the day they die and enter eternal life.

Now the fact that I was declared a saint in the first place always amazed me. But who am I to question God and the Church?

It was after I died that I was asked to serve the children of the world in my special ministry. I've been doing it for 1,700 years now.

Some years the elves throw a big celebration. This year, I went to Mass, then spend a quiet day at home reading and responding to letters, and then a nice dinner with just Mrs. Claus and me, and our cat Mathom and our dog Shulun.

Mrs' Claus is now playing the piano, and I am going to drink a cup of hot chocolate and listen.

Ah.

Who's nice (and who's naughty)

2009-11-29T07:51:00.001-08:00

I just stopped in at the North Pole for Mass and breakfast with my dear wife, then I'll be off again.

One thing people don't realize is that during the Christmas season I have so many visits to make - malls, parties, special events, breakfasts. Good thing with time displacement (don't ask me how it works!) I can be in so many places at once.

Besides visiting, I'm also doing some checking up on the nice and naughty lists - especially of the folks who are on the edge of switching from one list to another.

Yes, I'm checking up on some of you!

I see how you behave in the malls, standing in lines waiting to see me, when we visit. Are you behaving, or misbehaving?

I'm checking my list.

Even during the rest of the year I visit places. I might just be that fellow in the line behind you at the checkout. Or the man sitting on the bench watching you play games. Or the guy serving you in the cafeteria or in the restaurant.

Pout and fuss, throw a tantrum, yell at your sisters or brothers or parents - I might just see it. Be polite, be patient, help someone - I might just witness it.

And then perhaps I'll have to change my list.

So keep in mind that you never know if I'm watching!

Thanksgiving at the North Pole

2009-11-27T06:45:00.000-08:00

A number of my Canadian and U.S. friends send me their Christmas lists early, and at the same time they wish me a Happy Thanksgiving. Some even just send me Thanksgiving greetings - and save their lists for later.

Thanksgiving is primarily celebrated in Canada (in October) and the United States (November). It is not a world-wide holiday like Christmas.

But that does not mean it is not celebrated here.

We have a number of American and Canadian elves, and they have their own gatherings and feasts. The often invite me - my belly is not just due to all those cookies at Christmas!

In their honor, we take the two days off. Thus yesterday we all relaxed. And Mrs. Claus and I went to three different Thanksgiving celebrations.

Let me tell you, at this time of the year, more than the turkey gets stuffed!

Priority Mail 5

2009-11-21T07:16:00.000-08:00

I took a sip of my hot chocolate.

"Here's my problem, " I began. I get so many of these letters. The bag you saw me carrying is just a few days' worth, and as we get closer to the Christmas season, I get more and more."

She nodded.

"I want to give them the attention they need," I said. "Especially the ones I can respond to in some way."

"That's like you, Santa," Nendia squeaked.

"Ah, but with so many to read, it's hard to keep track of them all, to sort them out," I said. "That takes careful reading. That takes time. And ..."

I shrugged and help up my hands.

"And you have so many other things to do," she said.

"Exactly. You see it so clearly."

She smiled. But what can you do?" she asked slowly.

"I have been thinking this over. You gave me an idea."

"Me!?"

"Yes. You."

I leaned toward her. "I need your help."

"Me? Help?"

"It suddenly hit me that I need someone who is careful, who takes the work seriously, to help me. You are just that sort of person."

"But...but, what can I do?"

"What I need is for someone to read all the letters, carefully read them all, then to sort them into requests I do something about, ones I can respond to directly or through one of my helpers, and, of course, the ones that need some special care."

I smiled.

"Will you help me?" I asked.

"I, I will do whatever you need, Santa."

"Wonderful. I knew I could count on you."

"But what about the legs?"

"Yes," I said, "it will be hard to find someone who takes as much care as you and does such a fine job. But I'm sure that we can train someone for that job. This special requests assignment requires someone who has shown those skills."

"Oh, she said, trying to keep her smile in check. "Yes. When do I start?"

"Why not today? I will have the mail elves clear a space for you and I'll have this sack delivered back there for you to get started. Come up with whatever system works best for you. Once you begin, we can meet on a regular basis so I can act on the requests as best I can."

She seemed dazed.

"And I'll make sure there are some cookies and hot chocolate every time we meet. Thank you for your help."

"I'm honored. Oh, yes, honored."

"Good. Now, when you finish your hot chocolate, go get your things from the doll workshop and head over to the mail center."

She gulped her hot chocolate, thanked me repeatedly, and hurried out. My dear wife came in.

"Don't they already sort the letter for you at the mail room?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Yes, but now they won't have to. That will make it easier on them."

"And on Bucky and the other doll elves?"

"Perhaps. But I also think Nendia cares so much she will do a wonderful job,a and will enjoy it even more than making legs."

I sipped my hot chocolate. "But now I'd better head back to the mail room to let them know."

I picked up the sack of special needs letters to take them back.

"There are many kinds of special needs," my dear wife said. "The world is lucky to have such a caring rogue like you."

"And I'm lucky to have caring dears like you, and Nendia."

Priority Mail 4

2009-11-11T14:14:00.000-08:00

"Some of them make requests for family and friends," I continued. "There are a lot of prayers for mothers and fathers in the military."

Nendia nodded.

"They ask for cures, or that loved ones come home, or that someone who has died will come back."

"You can't do those things," she said slowly.

"No. And that makes it hard," I said. "I try to answer them in some way."

Nendia sipped her hot chocolate.

"Do you write to them? Or visit them?"

"I have written to some. Sometimes I visit them in disguise, or I make sure I get a message to them through helpers. Or I talk to people who can help them. Sometimes, though ...." I held up my hands to show my helplessness.

"But now," I said, "this problem with Bucky."

She looked at me puzzled for a moment.

"Oh, too fast."

"Yes?"

"She won't slow down."

She sipped her hot chocolate.

"Or maybe I'm not fast enough."

"I'm sure you do a good job."

"Oh, Santa, my legs are always exactly right. The best quality. Never a complaint. "

"Yes, I wouldn't be surprised."

"But ... maybe ...."

I smiled. "Try one of the cookies. My dear wife will be unhappy if she finds none of them have been nibbled."

Nendia took up one cookie and took a small bite. She smiled nervously and took another bite.

"They are good, aren't they?" I asked.

"Oh," she squeaked, "Yes. Very good."

She pushed the cookie into her mouth and chewed in an exaggerated way.

She sipped her hot chocolate to wash the cookies down, coughed, then looked at me seriously.

"Maybe you should put someone faster in charge of the legs," she said softly.

I smiled broadly.

"I'm not concerned about the speed at all. But I do have something in mind."

She looked at me quizzically. ...

(To be continued)

Priority Mail 3

2009-11-03T14:47:00.000-08:00

We arrived at the big house - my house - though it took longer than normal. I had to keep slowing down and even stopping to let her rest and catch her breath. The poor dear.

When we walked in the door, my dear wife popped her head out of the kitchen.

"Oh, a visitor," she said brightly.

My lovely bride does love visitors. It gives her an excuse to fuss and offer treats - especially since I sometimes try to avoid both (even though I secretly enjoy them!).

"Ah, my dear, this is Nendia," I said. "You remember her - one of the talented doll elves."

"Of course," she said, taking my cue. "You do such a wonderful job."

"Legs are important," Nendia said, beaming.

"I invited her over for some hot chocolate," I said. "We have to talk over some business."

Nendia smiled even more broadly.

"Oh, of course," my darling wife said, nodding sagely. Then she looked at the bag. "More special requests?"

"Yes," I said. "I have to look these over tonight."

"Of course," she said. I'll get some hot chocolate so you two can get to your business."

I ushered Nendia into my office and dropped the mail next to my rocking chair in front of the fire place. She looked around the room, taking in the decorations, the desk, the big stuffed chairs.

"You've been in here before," I said.

"Oh, but not in a long time," she squeaked. "It's too big."

"It doesn't seem so big when I get all the naughty and nice lists and all the gift lists to review just before Christmas," I said, then waved my arm. "Piled high to the ceiling."

She looked up, her mouth open. Then she looked at the bag.

"Special requests?"

Mrs. Claus came in with a tray bearing two steaming cups of hot chocolate, and a platter piled high with cookies. She placed the tray on the coffee table in front of two of the stuffed chairs.

"Ah, thank you, my dear."

"You two have a good meeting," she said. "I have some work to do."

She left.

"Please," I said to Nendia, gesturing to one of the chair. "Sit and have some."

She sat and picked up one of the steaming cups. She took a sip, then put it down.

"Santa," she said in a serious voice. "I've heard of special requests."

She stopped and looked at the sack.

"What have you heard?" I asked.

"Well, the elves say, some of the elves, that is, that, well, there are children who will not see Christmas this year."

"Yes," I said slowly, "some of the special requests involve such children."

"Oh," she squeaked.

"Not all," I continued. "But some."

To be continued ...

Priority Mail (2)

2009-10-29T15:05:00.000-07:00

"Quite a pile," the mail elf said.

He was not joking. It was a large sack that he struggled to lift. Then he realized that it would not fit though the window.

"I'll pick it up at the door, " I suggested.

He smiled, then grunted as he began dragging it away from the window to the door from the mail room into the lobby. The door swung open, and he tugged the bag through.

"Thank you," I said brightly, picking up the bag. It was heavy, but not too bad for me. Still, I pretended that lifting it was an effort just so he wouldn't be embarrassed.

I headed out of the post office, Nendia glued to my side.

"Special requests?" She squeaked. "Oh, but Bucky ...."

"Yes, remind me. You have an agreement?"

"Oh, yes," she panted, trying to keep up with me.

I slowed down.

"We work in the doll factory," Nendia said, adding with obvious pride, "I'm in charge of legs."

"Ah," I said. "Legs are important."

"Yes, yes," she gasped, still trying to keep up on her own pudgy legs. "Bucky makes arms."

"So you work as a team," I suggested.

"Oh, oh. But that is the agreement. Together. As a team."

"So what is the problem?" I asked.

"She works too fast. Arms Arms. More Arms. I can't keep up. She agreed that we would keep pace, but she keeps making more and more. Then she just leaves. She doesn't wait for me to finish."

She finished the last outburst with a squeak, and several gasps for air.

"Have you spoken to her?" I asked.

"Oh, I, Oh."

I stopped. She took several deep breaths.

"I ... I, yes," she said with what sounded like a combination between a squeak and a sob.

"Tell you what," I said. "Why don't we go in to the big house so I can drop off this mail? And we can get some hot chocolates."

More to come ...

Priority mail

2009-10-27T14:51:00.000-07:00

I was returning from the stables where I was visiting my sick reindeer - Reindeer Flu! - when I was stopped outside the post office by Nendia, one of the doll-making elves. A pudgy elf, even by elf standards.

"Santa! Santa!" She squeaked. (She tends to talk in squeaks.)

"Ah, Nendia, is something on your mind? " I asked, knowing full well that something was always on her mind.

"Well, I have to tell you," she squeaked (See?). "Bucky is not following our agreement. You have to talk to her!"

I thought for a moment. Bucky? Agreement?

Nothing came back to me. This could take a while, I feared.

"I have to pick up some mail," I said. "Then maybe you can remind me of the agreement."

"Oh, of course," she squeaked. But she also smiled. She had my attention - which is probably part of what she really wanted.

We entered the post office. Dozens of voices called out to me.

"Hello Santa! Santa! Good afternoon Santa!"

"Hello everyone," I said loudly to them all. "Quite a crowd. Not mailing your Christmas cards early? Or are you mailing your lists to me already?"

A few of them laughed. I went over to my special mail window.

"I was told some more special requests had come in." I said, trying to sound jolly, but already feeling a bit of sadness.

More to come ...

Reindeer Flu

2009-10-26T17:44:00.000-07:00

Around the world people are worried about Swine Flu.

Here, we have Reindeer Flu!

Dasher, Prancer, Cupid, and Flash (one of the auxiliary reindeer) are all down with it, and are quarantined away from the others. Several of the elves are also sick - they claim it's Reindeer Flu, too! (I suspect it's just the regular flu, but if they want to give it a special name, let them.)

So far, Mrs. Claus and I have avoided it. If I have to get sick, I'd rather it be now before the busy season begins. Clyde suggests I go sleep in the stable with the sick reindeer, get it and get it over with!

I think I'll just wait to see if nature sends it my way.

For those of you who are sick now, I'll keep you in my prayers.

North Pole Lives!

2009-10-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

A year ago I wrote about some of the problems here with the ice pack melting. We've had to move some of our operations. The elves were not happy at first.

The ice issue remain, but we seem to have things settled for now.

Yes, my headquarters is still at the North Pole. Some of our creative elves came up with ways to keep the ice around the workshop solid and thick enough. Ah, those elves! What would I do without them.

At the same time, we have set up satellite workshops at different points around the world. (I can't say exactly where, but one of them is in some old stomping grounds, another is in a region of the world that has plenty of or ice and snow, and a third is in a place that Mrs. Claus and some of the elves like because there are some big cities nearby!)

This actually helps to speed up production, and it gives us more places to store toys. Last Christmas when I set out I didn't have to load everything on the sleigh. I simply made two stops to pick up more presents - and refresh my hot chocolate!

Believe me, the reindeer were relieved that we did not have to haul everything in one load.

I have many more stories to tell. I promise I will be be back wrtign soon. But for now, I have to chekc in wiht some of my helpers aroudn the world to make sure they are getting ready for this year.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Temporary move - I hope

2008-08-10T07:38:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in my previous note, there have been problems since last I wrote.

The biggest was with the melting of the ice pack. Not only has this threatened the North Pole workshop, but also the animals who live here.

The workshop part we could address: We moved parts of it!

Yes, although we still have part of our workshop at the North Pole, the rest has been moved to ... well, I'll have to tell you later.

We just had a power outage in half of the new workshop!

Santa is back

2008-08-08T18:15:00.000-07:00

I have not forgotten you. Many wonderful things have been happening here at the North Pole.

There have also been problems.

I will tell you more in the coming days.

And keep saying: I still believe!

A bit more work to do

2006-12-29T04:21:00.000-08:00

Folks often think my work for the year is done on Christmas Day. Not so!

My season does not end until the Feast of the Epiphany on January 6.

And my season of giving actually begins on December 6, my feast day.

A month of giving!

Of course, all the toys are already made (well, except for a few last-minute items), so things are a bit slower.

But just a bit.

I will relax on January 6.

And now, back to work.

A few bruises this year

2006-12-27T06:26:00.000-08:00

Ow.

Sitting to type this is now an uncomfortable experience today.

Let's just say my ride this year was rough.

I’m used to the snow less regions of the world. That's why my sleigh is equipped with wheels I can lower.

The ride is a bit rougher, but I'm used to it.

But this year there were many more regions without snow. So more bumps. More ow.

Some of the elves said maybe it's global warming, which is, of course, causing us problems here at the North Pole.

But I've been around long enough to know there are cycles in the weather.

Perhaps the warming trend is coming on a little faster and sooner this time around, but I've run into it before.

The real problem now is that there are so many more children I have to visit.

More stops.

More bumps.

Mrs. Claus put a pillow on my office chair, but it is still a sore subject!

December 26

2006-12-26T03:06:00.000-08:00

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzz

Off to visit a descendant

2006-07-28T05:07:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned before, I am going to pay a surprise visit to a descendant. He does not know that he is a blood relative. I've heard good reports about him, though, so he must be one!

And, of course, he was always on the Good Boy list at Christmas.

Well, almost always!

We leave this morning. Mrs. Claus and I will fly with Zbigniew Ting to the United States. He has rented a car for us at the Rochester airport, then we will drive to New Brunswick, New Jersey, where Nicholas lives.

Yes, his name is Nicholas!

I remember him from when he was a little boy (though he never knew I checked in on him as I delivered Christmas gifts). I can't wait to meet his again.

Before the visit - our children

2006-07-05T05:04:00.000-07:00

I mentioned that I was going to visit a relative who does not know he is a relative.

I should explain.

Mrs. Claus and I had many children, some by birth, some by adoption.

It didn’t matter how: they were all ours.

A few remained with us in the work for a time, but all eventually moved on.

Some of those children had children, who in turn had children, and so on in the natural way of things (and according to God’s plan).

Over the years, many forgot that they were ours. Some drifted very far away.

Others grew up in families that have kept alive the spirit and gift that God gave me.

I could name names - but then, I would leave some out, so I won’t!

Suffice it to say that there are thousands of people today who have descended from me.

Here’s a clue: People who are generous, who love children, who truly celebrate Christmas, who cherish faith, just might be my children.

Oh, and those who play me or Mrs. Claus – that’s another possible sign.

So treat them all as you would treat me. Maybe offer them a cookie!

As for the relative we will visit – he is a direct descendant by blood.

Won’t he be surprised!

Six months to go!!!

2006-06-28T13:36:00.000-07:00

I just realized: Christmas is less than six months away!

We’ve been busy organizing for the fall. We’ve already stocked up on many of our staples – dolls, blocks, tops, traditional games. In the fall we do the specialty toys, the ones that are popular this year.

Over the next two months many of the elves will be off on vacation, gearing up for the fall rush. Mrs. Claus and I may take a trip too.

Don’t be surprised if you see me in your town!

Also, I plan to visit a relative – who does not know he is a relative!

More on this in the coming days.

Back

2006-05-27T06:28:00.000-07:00

I have not written in a long time.

Nothing is wrong; I've just been busy.

Sorry to let some folks down, though. I promise to do better.

And Santa keeps his promises.

We are already gearing up for the big day - which is only seven months away.

Some of the more nervous elves have been fretting that we won't be able to get everything ready on time.

Having done this more than a few times, I'm not worried.

The closest we ever came to things not working out is one year when I got sick.

But Mrs. Claus stepped in, and did a wonderful job. She was pleased when a few people who accidentally spotted her in the suit commented that it looked like "Santa" had lost weight.

I benefitted too, by the way. The following year, some folks were concerned about my weight loss, and left out extra cookies.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Easter.

2006-04-16T18:48:00.000-07:00

A wonderful Easter.

The choir at church was incredible.

The children all enjoyed a glorious Easter Egg hunt.

We had a marvelous dinner prepared by Mrs. Claus.

And, of course, we celebrated the greatest gift in all of history: Jesus’s act of salvation.

Alleluia!

Pumping over, changes made

2006-04-08T05:10:00.000-07:00

The pumping of water into the tunnels below North Pole Village is complete.

The icequakes have ended.

For now.

I still don't know what to do about global warming and the melting of the North Pole ice.

I wish I could do something to halt it - but I don't have that kind of magic.

But we have already made some changes here at the Pole.

I've urged our engineer elves to explore more ways to generate power naturally from water and sun. I've requested that use of snowmobiles and other such vehicles be cut down.

And I've asked the pilots who fly in our mail to cut down on their flights until the mail volume increases.

Little things. But if everyone in the world did the same little things, it would make a difference.

Christmas songs

2006-04-01T08:28:00.000-08:00

I've been listening to some new Christmas songs lately.

Of course, considering how old I am, "new" is relative.

There are a number of albums with traditional songs on them. Some of them are quite nice.

And there are some nice Christian albums with original Christmas songs.

But new songs that might make it on to mainsteam radio are few.

So many of these songs are funny, or at least try to be funny.

Grandma getting run over by reindeer sort of songs.

Perhaps its part of the spirit of the times. People have a hard time taking things seriously - even when they are serious.

After all, what could be more serious that God being born into the world to save us?

As for the Christian Christmas songs, they are sincere, but sincerity does not necessarily translate into good music.

Amy Grant and Gary Chapman had a nice one back in the 1980s with "Tennessee Christmas." I wish there were more of those.

Maybe I should try my hand at it.

I'd better put some new strings on my guitar first.

Pumping begins

2006-03-30T16:51:00.000-08:00

The pumping has begun.

Water is flowing into the lowest tunnels.

Gimlitin estimates it will take several weeks to make them secure.

I still don’t know what to do about global warming.

Maybe a letter to children?

I might ask my friend Lee to write a poem or a story.

By the way, Zbigniew Ting beat me at chess again!

Something to look forward to

2006-03-27T15:43:00.000-08:00

A typical work day.

The doll shop is already turning out as many as it did last October.

As for the tunnel problem, Gimlitin and his dwarves are already getting pumps ready to bring up sea water to flood the tunnels.

They should start later this week.

One happy note: Zbigniew Ting brought up the mail, and he brought his lovely wife with him.

Mrs. Claus was happy to have visitors for dinner.

They will stay the night.

In fact, Zbigniew is waiting to play a game of chess.

He beat me last time we played!

Global warming stopgap

2006-03-26T09:17:00.000-08:00

My darling wife fussed over me so much I sometimes went into attic just to have a moment of peace!

It is nice to be so loved, but sometimes ….

A week later, I met with Gimlitin and Eomar.

“It is as bad as you said,” I told Gimlitin. “Now that I’m aware I’ve even noticed the number of ice quakes we’ve been having.”

“We must take action immediately, Santa,” he said.

“And what action would you recommend?” I said.

“Flooding the tunnels.”

“Flooding the tunnels!?” Eomar gasped. “But there are so many and they go so deep. How much water would we need?”

“We can pump in sea water,” Gimlitin said. “But it is only a short term measure.”

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s happening at both the North Pole and the South Pole,” he said. “The ice is melting at a faster rate than normal. The glaciers in Greenland are receding. The ice fields are breaking up and weakening.”

“Global warming?” I asked.

“That seems to be what is making it go faster,” he replied. “Plus, it’ part of the natural cycle anyway.”

“Ah,” I mused. “So this is something that we are going to have to deal with as a world. But for now, we must flood the tunnels.”

They both left.

I sat at my desk wondering how this would affect our other plans, such as the greenhouses.

And I wondered how I could get the word out to the world.

Dimis saves the day?

2006-03-23T14:05:00.000-08:00

We slept fitfully. Despite the huddling, it was still cold.

The next morning, we had more bread. Some elf bread, some dwarf bread.

As for what to drink? Water.

Ice, actually. We did not have enough heat melt the ice, so we just chipped pieces off the walls, then sucked on them.

Not pleasant.

Gimlitin and his dwarves dug out another pack. More elf bread.

Off in the distance, we heard rumbling. More ice breaking way.

Eomar, several of the elves and dwarves, and I went off to explore to see if there was some way up,

All the tunnels here went down. One that might have gone up was blocked by fallen ice.

All of this activity took an entire day.

The day ended with more bread, and more huddling.

The next day, we explored a couple of the downward sloped tunnels to se it they led to any passages going up.

No luck.

We tried to go back up the tunnel that we’d slid down, but it was too steep and we did not have the right climbing equipment.

The third day, we tried to dig through the fallen ice in the tunnel that sloped up.

After a day of digging, we still found ice blocking our way.

On the fourth day, we tried digging again.

Then suddenly, a cell pone rang.

Dimis reached into his pocket and took out the phone.

“Hello?” he said. “No, I didn’t forget. Sorry. I’m trapped down in the tunnels with Santa…”

At that point I grabbed the phone.

“Hello, this is Santa. Who is this?”

“Eolias,” a voice stammered. “Santa, we’ve been looking for you.”

I gave him directions to where we were. I then signed off.

Dimis looked at me puzzled.

“Dimis,” why didn’t you tell us you had a cell phone?”

“I forgot. Good thing Eolias showed up for our weekly checkers game.”

I think if I had not been there some of the elves and dwarves would have ad a “talk” with Dimis.

As it was, no one talked to him.

Except me, of course, How can you blame someone like Dimis?

It took the rescuers four days to reach us. Four long, cold days.

Finally, the rescuers reached us, and we started the climb up.

It took us half a day to get back to the North Pole Village.

Mrs. Claus, and thousands of others were waiting.

Dimis was pleased at all the attention.

“It was my phone that led to our rescue,” he told everyone who would listen.

None of those who had been trapped were among those listening.

In the tunnels: Goblin food

2006-03-22T11:22:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned a few weeks back, when we were trapped in the ice caves below the North Pole Village, we saw goblins in the ice.

They were a horrible sight – even frozen.

Dimis fainted.

Eomar and Gimlitin drew their swords.

“They can’t harm us, “I said, trying to reassure them. I suspect they have been frozen in there since the last Goblin war – some 60 years.

“I saw Goblins when I was a young elf,” Eomar said. “I had hoped to never see them again.”

“Gimlitin,” I said, “do you have any idea how far down we are?”

“No. I have never been this deep.”

Dimis began to wake up – thanks to the care being given to him by several dwarves and elves.

The minute he saw the Goblins in the ice, he bean to swoon again.

“Pull yourself together,” Eomar said. “We have to protect Santa.”

Although that was not strictly true, it was enough to stir Dimis awake.

“Let’s move away from this ice face so we don’t see the goblins,” I suggested.

We walked for a short distance down a curving tunnel. We sat on some fallen ice blocks.

Gimlitin shook his lantern, which was beginning to dim.

“The fall must have damaged it,” he said.

“We don’t know how long we are going to be down here,” I said. Maybe we should alternate lanterns to make sure they don’t all lose power at the same time.”

They all agreed this was a good idea, so we turned off most of the lanterns.

The icy walls reflected the light form the few lanterns we kept on, so it was not too bad.

“I fear we will run out of food before our light goes, ” Eomar said.

I have never known goblins not to have some food about,” Gimlitin suggested. “Maybe they had some with them.”

He, Eomar, and several of the elves and dwarves went back to where we had sen the goblins to search. I stayed with Dimis.

“Thank you for searching for us,” I said. “Are there search parties out?”

“I was alone,” he said, blushing. “I was following you.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to go with you all into the tunnels, but Eomar said no. So I followed behind. Then I got lost I was wandering all around until I heard your voices. Then I fell through.”

“Ah,’ I said. “So they may not have even begun to search yet.”

I saw the frightened look on his face, so I added, “But they will.”

Eomar came back.

“We see some packs in the ice near the goblins. It might be supplies. Gimlitn and his dwarves are carefully chipping away at the ice.”

It took two hours of chipping, but they finally freed a pack. Gimlitin brought it to the tunnel where we were sitting.

The pack was stiff, and broke as we tried to get it open.

Inside was bread!

“This looks like elf bread,” Eomar exclaimed.

“Ill bet they stole it years ago.

“I wonder how 60 year old bread tastes,” Gimlitin said.

“Elf bread never goes bad,” Eomar stated.

“But it does get hard,” I said, tapping it against the floor.

“All we need do is warm it up,” Eomar said.

We held the bread above some lanterns on high. The bread got softer – though not completely unthawed. But it got to the point were we could chew it.

“We saw more packs,” Gimlitin said, “We will dig out another one in the morning.”

“We have enough bread in this one pack for several days,” Eomar said. “If we are careful.”

By this point, exhaustion was overtaking us all. We needed sleep. So we huddle together.

Soon, the tunnel was filled with the sound of snoring.

(Tomorrow: Rescue)

Dancing Santa

2006-03-04T19:26:00.000-08:00

Last night something unexpected happened.

Mrs. Claus and I were exhausted after fighting the flu and taking care of all the sick North Pole residents.

We expected just to have a quiet evening at home.

But as we were relaxing in the living room, I put on some music.

Mrs. Claus went into the kitchen to get something to drink.

When she returned, something about the way that she looked made me get up, and take her in my arms. Then we began to dance.

Around and around the room.

Mathom, our cat, looked up at us.

Shulun, our dog, began to beat his tail in time to the music.

We danced through one tune after another. We laughed. Then we dance some more.

We must have danced for 20 minutes.

Finally, we sat down.

It had been many years since we last danced (except at weddings, of course).

So many memories of happy times flashed through my mind as we danced.

We must do it again!

The flu battle winds down

2006-03-03T14:19:00.000-08:00

We are nearly through our battle with the flu.

I am exhausted.

Helping to care for all our sick elves, dwarves and gnomes has kept my dear wife and I on our feet. There were several nights where we took turns working two hour shifts.

The good thing is that we’ve had no deaths. Modern medicines have helped.

Oh, I remember the terrible flu outbreak of 1919 – the one that affected the entire world.

We lost nearly a quarter of the elves. I was haunted by their faces for years.

But now, things have settled. There are still some North Pole residents who are sick, but none seriously. And now there are enough healthy folks to take over the care.

Tonight, I think we will just stay home and enjoy some quiet time.

The North Pole Flu

2006-02-26T14:26:00.000-08:00

It’s been a long week.

We have been battling the flu – nearly the entire North Pole community.

Mrs. Claus and I both got it. But we heal quickly from all ills – one of the blessings bestowed on us by the Lord as part of our long lives.

The elves, dwarves and gnomes are not so blessed.

My beloved wife and I were forced to play doctor most of the week because all the elf doctors got sick, too!

I will continue the tale of being trapped in the ice tunnels when things settle down.

A rescuer - and more trouble

2006-02-18T15:58:00.000-08:00

The hour back seemed even longer. We were hungry and tired.

We finally came to the branch.

“Do we go on, or do we rest?” Eomar asked.

Gimlitin looked down the new branch.

“We could find a way out.” He said. “Or we may find nothing.”

I looked at the faces of all my companions.

The looked discouraged.

“Let’s go back to the hole and rest,” I said.

We headed back until we came to the hole. We looked up.

“Maybe if just one of us could get up,” suggested Alosia, one of the elves. “He could go get help.”

“Do you think the sides of holes could hold?” I asked Gimlitin.

“I do not know. It is a risk.

“Staying here is a risk,” Eomar said. “Trying the tunnel that way is a risk.”

“Let’s see what we can do,” I said.

“We first tried throwing up a small pick tied to a rope, but it kept pulling loose and falling down. We had to keep jumping out of the way.

Then we first tried to make an elf/dwarf/human pyramid.

We just kept falling. And we were short of the hole anyway.

Then we heard a voice.

“Santa? Oh Santa.”

Dimis!

“Down here,” I called. “Get help.”

“Down whe … oohp!”

He came flying down, landing on a dwarf!

“Are you two all right,” I said, rushing over to them.

“I…I,” Dimis began.

But then he and the dwarf disappeared into the floor of the tunnel!

We all jumped back, trying to avoid the widening hole. But it was no use.

We fell into the tunnel below, which sloped steeply. We found ourselves sliding down.

We seem to slide forever until we crashed into each other – and a wall.

Our groans were interrupted by a scream of terror.

“Goblin!”

Sure enough, there was a goblin in the wall.

And behind him in the ice we saw more!

No luck

2006-02-17T17:54:00.000-08:00

After a break, we started back the way we had come. It had seemed such a long time to get to where the tunnel was blocked – yet so quick getting back to where we had fallen through.

“Perhaps if we just called up,” Eomar suggested. “They will eventually start to search for us.”

“We could,” Gimlitin said. “But they will not know which tunnel we were in in the first place. And yelling may cause more to give way.”

“Let’s try going the other way in the tunnel, I suggested. If we don’t find a way up, we can always return here and see if we can signal safely.”

We set off.

All was well for about 20 minutes.

Then the tunnel branched.

Gimlitin looked down one branch, then the others. Then back down the first.

Then he began to grumble.

“What did you say,” Eomar asked.

“It’s not like good, solid rock,” Gimlitin growled. “If this was rock, I’d get a sense of which way to go.

I went over to the all and with my walking stick etched an arrow in it pointing back to the way we had come.

Gimlitin grunted in an approving way.

“This way,” he said, and led us into one of the branches.

We walked for at least an hour. There was no end in sight.

Suddenly, the floor began to give way under one of the dwarves.

Gimlitin grabbed him and pulled him back at the last moment. We hurriedly retreated as more of the floor gave way.

When it finally stopped, we peered ahead into the tunnel.

The hole was too large to cross. I edged close to it and looked down.

It disappeared into the depths.

“I guess we try the other branch,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.

No one smiled.

We headed back the way we had come.

A dead end - and bread

2006-02-16T14:32:00.000-08:00

Gimlitin – who had a sprained ankle – held his lantern high.

The hole from the tunnel above was about 30 feet above us.

“That ceiling has been giving way for a while,” he said.

I looked around at the piles of ice scattered through he tunnel.

“So it is gradually giving way?” I said.

“Yes. Now I am worried that even more will give way,” Gimlitin said. “The village
may be in danger.”

I sighed.

“Can we fix it?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“I think the more important thing right now is how we get out of here,” Eomar said.

I looked at him. He had scrapes about his face, and the beginnings of a black eye.

“We must have fallen 40 or 50 feet,” he said. “And it looks like more will give way if wqe try to climb back out the way we came.”

“Aye,” Gimlitin said. “Good eye.”

“So that means we have to find another way out,” I said.

At that moment we heard the rumble of ice falling somewhere in the depths.

“I think we’d better start now,” I said.

We looked both was down he tunnel. Both ways looked about equal, so we arbitrarily went to the right.

As we walked – or limped in some cases – Gimlitin and another dwarf, Arguntar – kept checking the walls, occasionally muttering to each other in a dwarfish dialect.

“Part of me would like to know what they are saying,” Eomar said to me. “But from the looks on their faces, maybe I don’t want to know.”

Occasionally we spotted cracks in the walls. Gimlitin and Arguntar stopped at some of them to peer into them.

We walked for a nearly two hours.

Then we turned a corner – and discovered that a collapse had blocked our way!

“We have to turn back” Eomar groaned.

“Let’s stop first,” I suggested.

We sat, and passed around some water.

Aolieas, one of the elves, said, “I wish we had some food to go with it.”

Arguntar slipped off a pack he’s been carrying. He took out some dwarf bread.

“Here. Not elvish fare, but solid enough”

We each ate some. Dwarf bread has a strong taste and a coarse grain – but at that moment it tasted like the finest pastry.

But I noticed everyone was careful to eat only a little and not to drop any crumbs.

We were all thinking the same thing: We don’t know how long this supply of bread has to last.

Falling through tunnels

2006-02-15T18:22:00.000-08:00

I found myself falling.

I landed with a thump on the floor of the tunnel below the one I had been in.

Then that floor began to give way.

I grabbed for anything to hold on to.

All I felt were chunks of ice.

The I felt and arm.

“Santa!”

It was Eomar.

I felt his hand and grasped it.

We fell through the second floor.

We hit the floor below. Ice fell on us.

And elves and dwarves.

And more ice.

After a few minutes, the ice stopped falling.

He tunnel was filled with the groans and the sounds of elves and dwarves coughing.

I was coughing, too.

“Are you all right, Santa?”

I recognized Gimlitin’s voice.

“Yes, I think so. Are you? How is everyone else?”

Gimlitin clicked on his lantern. Several other lanterns turned on.

It took a few minutes, but we finally found everyone.

Bruises, a few sprains, but nothing more serious.

“Can we climb back out?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Gimlitin said.

I didn’t like the sound of concern in his voice.

Collapse beneath the ice

2006-02-14T17:53:00.000-08:00

The next day, we went into the tunnels.

The party consisted of Gimlitin and a team of dwarves, Eomar and several elves, and myself.

All told, 11 of us.

The main tunnels below the main buildings were fine. But as we pushed out into some of the side tunnels, Gimlitin pointed to some problems.

“Look at those cracks,” he said.

Some were so large I could stick my hand in them.

“It get’s worse,” he said.

We ventured into one of the deeper tunnels.

Sure enough, there was a crack so large I could fit through it. I saw in the distance another tunnel through the opening.

“I don’t know that tunnel,” I said.

“There’s lots more like that,” Gimlitin said. “Tunnels that are not on the main maps. Eomar found some older maps, and some of those tunnels are listed there. But they’ve been sealed for years.”

“Some of them were sealed during the goblin fights in the 1930s,” Eomar said. “Some were shut off by collapses even earlier.”

“Speaking of collapses,” Gimlitin said.

Before us we saw a pile of ice where a wall had partly given way.

“This is bad,” I said.

“Aye,” Gimlitin said. “We may even have to abandon the tunnels altogether and fill them in. For safety sake.”

Just at that moment, we heard a rumbling.

Then the floor beneath us gave way!

I started to slip through!

Trapped beneath the ice!

2006-02-13T15:38:00.001-08:00

Oh my goodness.

I have not written in two weeks because I’ve been trapped!

In the ice!

Beneath the North Pole!

With goblins!!!

It all began with Gimlitin, head of the dwarves at the North Pole.

He came to deliver a report about the tunnels beneath the North Pole.

As you may remember, I had proposed that we look into the tunnels beneath the pole. We wanted to see if they might be useful to help connect the building. We also wanted to look at building more tunnels.

Gimlitin found me at the paint shop. I was checking out some new shades of red and green to use on toys.

“Well, this is a little too pink for me,” I said, holding up a sample.

Fantanti, The head paint elf, was about to say something when cold air and snow blew in through the door.

A bundle of fur came in and shook.

Snow flew everywhere.

“Hey,” Fantanti blurted.

“Sorry” the fur ball grumbled.

Gimlitin.

“What brings you out on such a snowy day, Gimlitin?” I asked.

He took off his hat.

“I’ve been searching for you,” he said gruffly. “I have news about the tunnels.”

I turned to Fantanti.

“May we use your office?”

“Anything to get this moisture away from my paint,” he squeaked.

We went into the office.

Gimlitin shook again. Some snow got on Fantanti’s desk.

“Sorry,” Gimlitin grumbled, not sounding very sorry at all.

Fantanti left.

“So?” I said.

“We have found something that might be a problem,” Gimlitin said.

“Serious?”

“Very.”

“Go on.”

“As you know, the North Pole is built on ice. Not good solid rock. Ice.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Ice moves. Not like good solid rock.”

He paused, waiting for me to day something. Probably about the superior quality of rock.

I nodded.

“”Well, he said,” it’s moving faster than expected.”

“Do you know why?”

“Not sure. My gut feeling is global warming. The ice cap is melting on the edges. The ice is moving faster.”

“Are our buildings in danger?”

“Could be. They are certainly moving”

“Moving?”

“Igf you look at the old charts, the village is about 50 feet further south than it was when it was built.”
It had never occurred to me that North Pole Village could move. But of course it would. It’ built on ice, and ice moves.

“It’s making a mess of the tunnels,” he said. “Some of them have closed up. There are also cracks in the walls of some, and new caves are opening.”

“I see.”

“I think we need to reconsider all our plans. The green house. New tunnels. We may even want to think about having to move the whole village.”

Wow.

“Are you sure?”

“About as certain as I can be with ice. It’s not like good solid rock.”

Yes.

“I think I want to see,” I said.

“I can take you down tomorrow. It’ll take about two hours.”

Boy, was he wrong!

(More tomorrow. Right now I need more hot chocolate!)

A Mathom moment

2006-01-29T17:27:00.000-08:00

After all the joy of the concert on Friday – and the pleasure of hearing Mrs. Claus play piano – we had a funny piano moment today.

Mrs. Claus did not play Saturday. Resting, I suppose.

But today she decided to play.

She sat down, and hit a C chord.

But instead of beautiful notes, we heard “MERROW!”

I lifted the lid of the piano.

Mathom, our cat, raced out of the piano and upstairs!

We later found her in the back of our bedroom closet. She had a wild look in her eyes.

“Well, my dear,” I said. “I don’t think Mathom is a fan of your playing.”

I later managed to coax Mathom out.

She spent an hour on my lap. I even go her to purr.

Sounded like a C chord to me!

Mrs. Claus - concert pianist!

2006-01-28T18:52:00.000-08:00

One of the blessings of living a long life is one has time to master a skill one wants to master.

For Mrs. Claus, that skill is playing the piano (a skill I don’t have!).

She began playing about 200 years ago.

She plays almost every day. She mixes popular songs with classical pieces.

She is a very fine musician. Whenever we have celebrations, she is asked to play.

Last night, she gave us concert – along with the elf orchestra.

In honor of Mozart’s 250th birthday, they played his Piano Concerto no. 27.

They were magnificent. I was so proud of her.

Cold weather, warm home

2006-01-25T14:31:00.000-08:00

Minus 21 (F) and snow.

Those are the conditions at the moment.

We’ve had a number of days like this in a row. More are in the forecast.

And, no sun.

This is the time of the year many of the elves choose to go on vacation.

The equipment has all been repaired – or new parts ordered.

No more gift giving for a while.

Things are slow and easy.

So it’s a good time to head south.

Of course, from here, everywhere is south!

We often close the workshops early at this time of year. We did so today.

Much as I love the Christmas season, I love this time of the year too.

Tonight, Mrs. Claus and I plan to listen to some music, drink hot chocolate, and maybe play a game of cards.

My advice to everyone reading this is to turn off the television – or the computer - and spend some time with loved ones.

Beautiful music - and sad thoughts

2006-01-22T18:08:00.000-08:00

A visit today instead of going out. No movie surprises.

Dicross, his wife Cacro, and their seven children.

They all play musical instruments. After dinner, we had a little concert.

It was delightful.

After they finished playing, Mrs. Claus and I applauded enthusiastically.

“It is wonderful to see a family play together,” I said.

“It is wonderful to have the whole family,” Dicros said. “We almost didn’t.”

“Oh?”

“When Cacro was carrying our second youngest, Jaisa, she became sick. The doctors said carrying the baby to term might threaten her life. They suggested terminating the pregnancy.”

“Not one of our doctors here?” I asked.

“No. in Germany. We obviously chose not to.”

I looked at Jaisa. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

I sighed.

“Sadly, too many mothers - and fathers - choose otherwise. Most don’t even face
death. It’s just the wrong time, or the inconvenient, or they are not married, or they are afraid. So many reasons. So many children lost.”

The children began to play again. Dicross and Cacro joined them.

I smiled, But I was sad, too.

How much beautiful music has been lost?

Sunday visit - to Mars?

2006-01-16T05:41:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, we went to the home of Geolin, the Elf.

We had a wonderful time. Geolin is a bit of a joker – as are his wife and four children – so we laughed a great deal. I even cried from laughing so much!

After dinner he said, “Let’s go in to the living room for dessert. I have a surprise.”

He led us into the living room, then he popped in a DVD.

It was Santa Claus Conquers the Martians!

I hadn’t seen the movie in years.

It was as bad as I remembered.

Oh, not in a mean spirited way. It was just a bad movie.

Plot, special effects, that polar bear, the robot, the green Martian makeup – all bad.

The fellow who played me wasn’t bad, though he seemed to have trouble with his lines. Nixon is not one of the reindeer!

Then there was the theme song: “Hooray for Santy Claus.”

Hang up that Mistletoe
Soon You'll hear Ho! Ho! Ho!
On Christmas Day
You'll wake up and you'll say
Hooray for Santy Claus

S-A-N-T-A C-L-A-U-S
Hooray for Santy Claus
You spell it S-A-N-T-A C-L-A-U-S
Hooray for Santy Claus
Hooray for Santy Claus
Hooray for Santy Claus

Geolin served us green colored cake for dessert.

As I said, he is a bit of a joker.

I can’t wait until we have him over to our house as a guest.

I have a copy of Plan 9 from Outer Space on video.

I feel like a hockey puck

2006-01-12T18:32:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I forget that despite my Christmas feats and my longevity, I am still human.

Today I played hockey with the school elves. We were having a jolly time.

The puck was loose and I went after it, hoping that I could fire it into the net.

Instead, I took a tumble, landing on my face and knee!

My knee is now swollen. There is an ice pack on it.

The doctor says I must stay off it for a couple of days.

I also bent my glasses’ frame.

Mrs. Claus keeps making comments about a man my age – 1,700 - playing with children.

I think playing with children is one of the reasons I’ve lived this long!

Oh well, no hockey for a while.

Maybe a good game of chess instead!

A letter I'm thankful for

2006-01-11T14:58:00.000-08:00

I love getting mail.

In the weeks before Christmas I get flooded with letters and cards and drawings. Children wish me well, and ask about my wife, the reindeer and the elves. And, of course, they send me their lists.

I get millions of letters then. Literally.

But I also get letters after Christmas. Not as many, but I sometimes like them better.

Thank you letters.

I got a batch today.

Dear Santa,

Thank you for the new bicycle. I promise I will wear the helmet.

Love,
Duane Stroyer

Dear Santa Claus,

Did you like the cookies? I made them.

Thank you for the new pants. I have worn them. They fit good.

The legos are fun. I built a fort.

Your friend,
Aaron Malone

But the letter that touched me the most was one from a girl whose brother had been in a terrible accident around Thanksgiving time. The doctor’s had not been sure he would live, so she asked me to “fix him” in her Christmas letter.

Today I got:

Dear Santa,

Reggie is sitting up in bed now. He ate ice cream with me. He is learning how to walk.

Thank you for making him better.

I love you,
Sheila

Of course, I did not make her brother better. That is not one of the gifts I can give. But I did pray for Reggie, and the doctors working on him.

And as for gifts, I think Sheila’s letter is a wonderful one.

Where to get the power?

2006-01-09T18:48:00.000-08:00

Back to work, but a light day.

My mind has been on the greenhouse report anyway.

The idea is to have a small forest here at the North Pole for the sakes of the gnomes, dwarves and elves.

We have some greenhouses to grow food and Christmas plants such as poinsettias, but nothing on the scale we would need for full-sized trees.

The report raises the issue I had feared from the beginning would hold up the project. We simply don’t produce the amount of energy we would need to provide heat and light in a large greenhouse in the winter.

We use a lot of solar and wind power during the rest of the year. But in the winter there is no sun. And the winter winds are too strong.

So the next part of the project is to see if we can come up with some energy ideas.

Mrs. Claus joked that if we gave enough children cookies, the energy produced would be more than sufficient!

Happy Birthday Elvis

2006-01-08T16:50:00.000-08:00

Mrs. Claus and I had some visitors today.

We had expected Alwin the Bard, his wife and children, so when the knock came at the door, we were ready.

I opened the door.

Instead of Alwin --- there stood Elvis!

An Elf Elvis.

And an Elf Priscilla.

And an Elf Lisa Marie.

And two smaller Elf Elvises.

Then they all began to sing “Blue Christmas.”

I roared with laughter.

Today, of course, was Elvis’s birthday, so Alwin dressed up as the King – and the rest of his family joined him.

We had a wonderful visit, full of song.

Viva North Pole!

Santa in the headlines

2006-01-07T07:50:00.000-08:00

My good friend Lee sent me two letters-to-the-editor. They were published in his local newspaper on January 5.

One was written by a woman name Joyce thanking some unknown person for turning in her wallet that she'd dropped in a parking lot.

The headline read: "Santa stops in parking lot."

The second letter was from a couple, Bob and Pat, thanking an anonymous man in a white truck who stopped to change a tire for them on Christmas Eve.

The headline read: "Santa drives a white truck."

The letters made me smile.

First, they involved people who helped others.

Second, they involved people who said thanks.

And, finally, they linked my name to kind acts.

With so much attention given to wrongdoing, it's nice to see good deeds recognized in a public way.

It's also good to see that despite all the commercial hype that's grown up around Christmas and me, the basic message of goodness lives.

After all, what is Christmas but the celebration of God's act of generosity in coming into the world to help us all?

Three Kings

2006-01-06T16:32:00.000-08:00

My deliveries for this season are over.

Last night, I completed my rounds for the Feast of the Three Kings. I visited a number of countries – mostly in Latin America – but nowhere near what I visit on Christmas Eve.

So now, I can relax.

And consider the greenhouse report.

No deliveries!

2006-01-02T18:42:00.000-08:00

A day of no deliveries. The next trip out is Epiphany, when I get to play Three Kings!

The workshop elves report that most of the repairs are completed. We were lucky this year.

Tomorrow, I get a report on the proposed forest greenhouse. I am hopeful.

Peace on Earth

2006-01-01T09:49:00.000-08:00

Peace to all.

This morning ay Church we sang “Hark the Herald Angles Sing.”

I’ve always loved that song – though some of the notes are hard to hit!

“Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace.”

I do wish the world could be a peace. As I travel, I see the signs of so much conflict.

It’s terrible for adults. It’s even worse for the innocent children.

There have been some Christmases I’ve cried.

“Light and life to all he brings.”

Amen. Peace on Earth. May it be so.

Speaking of travels, last night, in my role as Mother Goody (!), I made some deliveries in Eastern Canada. (Some folks also call me Father Time, Mother New Year, Aunt Nancy). I also delivered gifts in parts of Greece, Scotland, and France.

It’s a holdover from the days when gifts were given out at New Years – and in some places where some serious folks tried to ban Christmas.

Ban Christmas! Imagine that. That’s like saying we should ban candy, cookies, puddings and all else that is sweet in life!

Happy New Year

2005-12-31T19:12:00.000-08:00

I have a little work to do tonight, so just a quick Happy New Year to all!

Other times, other faces

2005-12-30T05:20:00.000-08:00

One of the things that people forget is that I don’t just deliver toys at Christmas.

I deliver on my feast day (December 6), and on the Feast of the Epiphany, as well as on Christmas.

And I don’t always deliver as “myself.”

Nor, for that matter, is the popular image of me in the United States even the real me!

Yes, I am overweight, but not nearly as overweight as I am picture. Why, one time when I worked briefly as “Santa Claus” at a store during one of my visits, I had to wear padding!

I have a beard, but not nearly as long as commonly shown. When I visit other lands I look “normal” enough not to draw notice.

I do wear red. I am a bishop, and the color is the color of my robes.

But I also wear other colors. I’ve even delivered wearing other colors. (My favorite was a green plaid outfit I wore a few times.

I am about 6 feet tall, not short as sometimes shown.

But more than just my clothes or appearance change.

I am Father Christmas, Baba Noel, Jultomten, and others – all with slightly different appearances.

I have been a child (even called the Christ Child, El Nino, in South America), a woman (Befana in Italy and Baboushka in Russia, and the Old Lady of Bethlehem, for example), and even Three Kings(!) in Spain.

All the gift giver stories come together in me.

I am me – the me my wife and the elves here at the North Pole see.

But around the world, people see what they believe.

Maintenance begins

2005-12-28T03:39:00.000-08:00

On Christmas day I rested after getting back.

On Boxing Day I slept late. So did all the elves. Then we checked the gifts and the lists.

After that, we began to inspect the workshops.

You see, working full speed for months, things tend to get dirty, worn down, broken. In some of the workshops, equipment was being held together with duct tape the last few days!

So yesterday was spent taking things apart, cleaning, and repairing. This process will take a few weeks. We go slow. The pace here does not really pick up until summer.

No rush. We’ll soon have a list of parts that need to be replaced. Some we can do here. Some will be ordered and shipped.

I also have some more gifts to deliver. Some folks give gifts up through Epiphany.

But for some of those gifts, I go in different forms.

I’ll explain tomorrow.

Right now, I’ve got a doll head molding machine that needs some TLC!

Before I forget

2005-12-26T04:46:00.000-08:00

Happy Boxing Day!

Happy feast of St. Stephen!

Happy first day of Hanukah!

Happy first day of Kwanzaa!

Another Christmas

2005-12-26T04:43:00.000-08:00

It’s over for this year. (Well, except for the 12 days, and the feast of the Three Kings.)

The reindeer have all been cooled down, washed, rubbed, brushed, and fed. They are now snoring!

The elves have begun the cleaning and repair work on the sleigh. (Some roofs in need of repair resulted in some dings and snags. And then there was that flag pole in Bolivia I didn’t see until the last moment.)

The suit is in the laundry, waiting to be cleaned of soot, pine, cat and dog slobber (some of them are quite friendly when I pop in!), cookie crumbs and milk and hot chocolate dribbles (I have to work fast!), and some good, honest sweat.

The gift and list elves are checking to make sure that everything got delivered (sometimes we have to send a few items late because they got overlooked, or the lists came in too late for packing).

I have showered and changed. I have my comfy robe and slippers on. Ahh.

But no cookies or hot chocolate or milk today - Please!

I will relax. Read a little. Nap.

Tomorrow I get back to work.

After all: Christmas is just 364 days away!

All is set!

2005-12-24T08:06:00.000-08:00

Everything is packed. My bag is bulging with gifts.

The sleigh is polished. The runners waxed.

The reindeer have been fed, and brushed.

Their harnesses have all be softened and stretched.

The suit awaits.

Mrs. Claus and I will soon eat a light dinner.

After that, we will pray.

And then - IT WILL BE CHRISTMAS EVE!

In praise of Mrs. Claus

2005-12-18T04:34:00.000-08:00

Mrs. Claus made me a wonderful lentil soup last night – with homemade bread.

It was just what I needed after a long day of work.

It’s just one week until Christmas. We are all working as fast as we can to finish are the toys and candy and other gifts. I have put in long days all week.

By last night, I was beat.

And then there was that bowl of soup and that still steaming bread.

Mrs. Claus is one of the miracles of the North Pole. I don’t know if Christmas would be the same without her.

I’m not just talking about cooking and taking care of the house and me – though she does a fine job of that. (Oh, by the way, I also cook, and do housework: It’s called “housework,” not woman’s work! Good boys share in the household chore.)

But Mrs. Claus does so much more.

Over the years she has help design and improve toys.

She has helped me deliver toys.

She works in some of the shops. At various times she has made and painted toys, knit clothing, operated candy cane machines, and so on.

When we had an elf flu outbreak a few years ago, she was one of the nurses in the hospital.

I could go on and on.

When we married, she became my partner in all ways.

She is one of the greatest gifts given me by the Lord.

By the way, when you write me letters – which I love to receive – she gets a smile when you say hello to her, too.

A poem from a friend

2005-12-17T16:15:00.000-08:00

I have been so busy these last few weeks I've had no time to write. This past week alone we've been working every night until 10 or 11. We even worked today - normally a day for games.

The elves petitioned last week to work on Sunday. I said no. The Sabbath is a day for prayer, and rest, and family. Some worked anyway.

They asked again about working tomorrow. Again I said no. But I fear some will work.

My good friend Lee is working this year as a mall Santa. He's long dreamed of doing it. I am happy for him.

He sent me a poem about it:

A Mall Santa's Prayer

As I hold each precious child
let me treat each one
with the love and care I'd show
Your most holy Son.

How like him.

We should try to turn everything we do into an occasion for prayer. (Though, to be honest, I sometimes fail to do so. And they call me a saint. Ha!)

A cover that will work

2005-12-09T16:32:00.000-08:00

Falling space debris. That’s how the Canadian government explained yesterday’s “close encounter” with three jets.

I am grateful for the help I get from contacts in various governments.

Canada. The United States. Norway. Sweden. Finland. Great Britain. Ireland. Russia.

They have all helped me in recent years to cover for mishaps.

A certain Canadian minister is going to get something extra nice in his stocking this year.

As for Rudolph’s nose, the research elves are busy trying to come up with a solution. The Canadian government can come up with a good cover for a spotted sleigh, but we haven't found one for that remarkable nose yet.

Poor Rudolph: His gift is also his curse!

A close call with the reindeer

2005-12-08T17:27:00.000-08:00

Today we nearly had a disaster during the practice flight.

The reindeer as usual were full of energy and excitement

The stamped and pawed until we were able to race out of the stable.

We soared into the air far faster than we will be able to in 16 days.

The wind whipped around me. It was COLD (the reason I never deliver pets at Christmas. The poor creatures would freeze!)

Just at that moment, the wrapping around Rudolph’s nose worked loose.

As you know, his nose normally glows brightly. During these practice flights, he is always so excited it glows even brighter. Passing planes can easily spot us. So can spy satellites.

The wrapping flew away.

And just at that moment a military jet passed us by.

It turned. He had spotted us.

“Boys, we need to move!” I yelled.

Now, one of the things about my sleigh and my wonderful team is that we can fly faster than the fastest plane. That’s one of the reasons I am able to deliver gifts so quickly on Christmas Eve.

So we dove down toward the icy surface wreathed in the darkness the Arctic’ 24-hour night.

But as we dove, a second military jet streaked down toward us. And a third.

It was a patrol!

And there was Rudolph’s nose still glowing!

We swooped down to just a few feet above the ice. Then we sped away. I turned o look.

The tree jets were trailing far behind.

When we got back, I checked with the elves monitoring radio signals.

“Guess what,” he said with a mischievous smile. “There was a UFO spotted near the North Pole.”

I shook my head.

“Send a signal to the Canadians,” I said.

I had worked out arrangements with select people in the nations of the world and their military.

By tomorrow, there will be a report about a meteor falling, or an experimental missile, or some such story.

Thank the Lord it wasn’t a private flight or an airliners. Hose reports are harder to take care of.

As for Rudolph’s nose – I think the research elves need to come up with some new cover.

Too bad we can't just unscrew it light a light bulb - as they say in that comic version of Rudolph's song.

"... You would even say it glows (Like a light bulb!)..."

Getting closer to the big night

2005-12-07T17:22:00.000-08:00

Snow today. Temperatures below freezing. No sunlight.

Still, good training weather for the reindeer.

I've taken them out on flights daily for the last week.

They are anxious.

So am I.

Christmas is just 18 days away. I fly in 17 days.

The elves are working frantically to finish all the last minute toys.

The Christmas lists are pouring in.

Mrs. Claus keeps telling me to get more sleep, that I need my rest to get ready for the big flight.

Of course, I'll never admit she's right - even if I did nod off during the daily meeting with the workshop supervisors!

17 days to get ready!

My feast day

2005-12-06T16:07:00.000-08:00

Today is my feast day.

Even after all these centuries, I’m still not used to saying that.

In the Catholic Church, we celebrate the day a believer enters eternal life, not the day he or she enters the world.

So today is the anniversary of my death.

But it is a day to celebrate. Without this day, I would not have experienced the eternal, and I would not now be Santa Claus.

I still remember when it happened.

I was old. Not old in the way I am now (more than 1700 years old!), but old in body.

I had a bad tooth that ached me for weeks. I had arthritis in both my knees and in my hands. I had a hard time walking first thing in the morning, and some days I could barely hold the cup at Mass.

Oh, none of this stopped me. I continued my duties right up until I became too ill to leave my bed.

That final illness lasted for weeks. I drifted in and out of consciousness.

When I was awake, I was often too tired to do more than a few simple things.

And I was never alone. People drifted in and out of my room. Sometimes I was very aware of them. Sometimes I was surprised.

Sometimes I was both moved byt their prayers and tears.

But, to be honest, sometimes I was annoyed. I just wanted silence. I wanted to rest.

Finally, On December 6, I felt at peace.

No more crying.

No more pain.

No more tiredness.

And I was suddenly full of energy. I rose from my bed.

I did not look back. Instead, I walked out the door into a garden.

There were children playing and laughing. I spotted a group of them gathered about a man sitting under a tree.

He was telling them a story. I approached, my heart racing.

He turned to me.

“I’m glad you could join us, Nicholas.”

“I am glad to be here.”

“I have been telling these children stories about you.”

“I hope they are the true ones.”

“Of course. But do you not know these little ones?”

I looked at the children. Some of them did look familiar.

“These are the young souls of some of the people you helped in your life,” Jesus said. They were hungry, and naked, and homeless, the abused and neglected of the world. And you touched them in so many ways.”

I began to cry.

“I am glad to see them here.”

“Oh, there are many more like these,” he said. “And there are so many more waiting to join them.”

“Of course, some of them might need some help. Help with keeping their hope, their joy, their sense of wonder alive. Such feelings are a taste of the eternal feast that awaits them.”

I said nothing.

“But sadly, in some that path to the eternal is closed by fear, and hurt, sorrow. You helped to reopen that path for many in your life.”

“I wish I could have done more.”

“You can.”

“How, Lord?”

“Some of the blessed spend time in the world. Angels, saints, holy ones.”

“Could I serve you in that way?”

He smiled.

“Of course. And because of your special connection to the young, you would be able to help them in so many ways.”

So it was. I was allowed to come back. And for some 1,700 years I have been serving the Lord in a special ministry to children. I help to keep the sense of heaven alive in them as long as possible.

I can go home any time I want. But this is where I belong for now. And every now and then, in prayer, in quiet moments, I go back to that garden full of laughing children and he who was the holy child that first Christmas.

What a gift!

Stan Berenstain goes home

2005-11-30T13:45:00.000-08:00

A friend of children has died.

I just got word that Stan Berenstain passed away Saturday. He and his wife Jan
created the Berenstain Bears.

The bears deal with many of the issues that children face in life. In the end, family and caring about others win out in the stories.

I am sad for his wife and family at their loss. But I also rejoice that he has gone on to his reward.

Those who bring happiness to children have a special place in heaven.

Christmas songs

2005-11-29T14:53:00.000-08:00

I love Christmas songs.

I love the old classics – full of reverence and a sense of wonder for the birth that we celebrate.

I love the modern classics, full of joy of the season.

I love the songs celebrating the other characters of the season – Frosty, and Rudolph, and others.

We play them at the North Pole year round.

I never tire of them.

Anna's gift to me

2005-11-26T15:36:00.000-08:00

I received a letter today from Anna, a woman who has been writing to me since she was a child.

As Anna grew older, and others her age stopped writing, she joined her younger siblings when they wrote.

Then she married and had her own children with whom she wrote.

Now they are all grown, and Anna has begun writing with her grandchildren.

She tells people she writes just to encourage them and help them keep the magic of Christmas alive. Maybe, but she also has a sign in her house that reads, “I still believe.”

I’ve always enjoyed her letters. Instead of just listing what she wants, she asks questions about me, my wife, the elves, the North Pole, and so on. She also tells me about her life – all the events of the past year, the boys she liked (when she was younger), trips, her husband's ice cream business, the events in her children’s lives, etc.

She has also occasinally written me stories and poems full of love and joy, which she illustrated. I still have them.

And she never fails to thank me for the gifts she received the last Christmas.

Sometimes, she reflects on the world. She did so in this year’s letter.

“People are putting their Christmas decorations out earlier and earlier. Bill (he’s the father of Timmy and Natasha, both of whom I’m sure are on your nice list) [They are.], put his lights up a two weeks before Thanksgiving and has his Santa and reindeer display already lighted. There are many other displays up in the neighborhood.

"I think people are doing it because they are sad. There are so many terrible things happening in our world, so they want to h9ld on to something that gives them joy. It’s a way to push away the sadness for a while.”

Ah, I have seen much sadness in my many centuries of life. These are sad times, but there have been times as sad or sadder in the past.

I’m sure there will be more sad times in the future, too.

But as long as there are people like Anna who look for what is beautiful in life and the world, the sadness will never win.

Hippie Thanksgiving

2005-11-24T20:27:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my friends in the United States.

For us at the North Pole, this is just a regular day of work. We don’t have any American elves at this time.

In fact, we have had very few elves from the U. S. in our entire history.

Elves tend to live in Europe. I have met a few from the States. They or their ancestors moved over with those who emigrated to the U.S. But only a few elves did so, and so their numbers are relatively small.

About 35 years we did have two elves who were from the U.S. They were cousins who had decided to “find themselves” Hippie elves!

They were an interesting pair.

They wore colorful clothes – even by elvish standards. They promoted vegetarianism. They promoted non-violence and opposed the Vietnam War. They tried to teach the other elves transcendental meditation.

They did celebrate Thanksgiving one time while here. But, of course, the feast was all vegetarian. It was at that feast that I tasted tofu for the first time. Groovy.

After about two years, they left to live at a commune in Kentucky.

They still live in Kentucky, though no longer on a commune. They make wooden toys that they sell on the internet. The money raised helps to support a community center run by a priest in an impoverished region of Kentucky.

The priest is Irish. Maybe there’s a bit of the wee folk in him!

So Happy Thanksgiving to them, too.

Oh, and “Peace.”

The holiday season nears

2005-11-22T19:40:00.000-08:00

No sun today. Cloudy, and -15 (F).

Ah, North Pole weather!

It makes it easier to stay in the shops and get soem work done.

The final push is on. Just 32 days left until Christmas Eve.

In the United States, Thanksgiving Day - the fourth Thursday in November - traditionally marks the beginning fo the Christmas season. Of course, many stores and mallls have gotten an early start.

My friend Lee, who helps me with this blog, just e-mailed me to say he had gotten a job as a mall Santa.

I've been telling him for years to give it a go. I'm happy for him.

Now, back to work!

Santa's Lap

2005-11-20T17:26:00.000-08:00

In thinking of the men and women who play me, I remembered a poem someone once sent me.

I don’t know who wrote it. Maybe someone out there can tell me.

Santa's Lap

I like to visit Santa Claus
When Christmastime is near.
It's fun to climb up on his lap
And whisper in his ear.

He says, "My dear, have you been good?
Have you done what Mother said you should?
Do you brush your teeth and hair each day?
Are you kind to others when you play?

I listen to each question
And answer every one.
Although I am ashamed to say
I must say no to some.

But Santa never scares me;
He doesn't even scold.
He just says, "Try again, my dear,
You're a fine lad, I am told."

Gee, I like to visit Santa Claus
When Christmastime is near.
It's fun to climb up on his lap
And whisper in his ear...

To all those who play me ...

2005-11-19T19:38:00.000-08:00

Writing about John Irons yesterday made me think of al the men – and women – who portray me around the world.

Oh, there are so many variations of me – tall, short, fat, skinny, all races and colors, dressed in red, green brown, white and bishop’s robes.

So many of my “helpers” – as I like to call them - are dedicated to the spirit of Christmas, and, of course, to the children.

And so many of them recognize the true meaning of Christmas and my ministry – serving the Child who came to redeem us all.

They do me honor. So I want to say thank you to all of them.

A yes to a request

2005-11-18T18:27:00.000-08:00

I’m still trying to catch up with all the mail that arrived while we were away in Western New York.

There are many wonderful and moving letters. One of them, though, touched me.

It was a letter from a Native American who wants to play me.

John Irons is an Iroquois. A Seneca, to be exact – a tribe, that coincidentally, once dominated Western New York.

He now lives in Billings Montana.

He has been asked to play me at the Christmas Party and for the children’s ward in the hospital where he is a nurse.

“My people have a tradition,” he wrote. “A storyteller seeks permission to tell a story he learned form another storyteller. This is especially true when he is telling a story from another people.

“So in that tradition, I ask permission to play you, and to tell your story. I will tell the true story, and some of the stories that have grown about you.”

He also told me of his life. He is in his 50s, a Vietnam veteran who drifted for a time into drink and drugs. He then found nursing. He also rediscovered his own roots. And he rediscovered his Catholic faith.

A resurrection of sorts.

I was touched by his story, and his humbleness in asking permission to play me.

I have already written him back.

Of course he may play me. He may tell my stories. He may help to create more stories about me.

I would be honored.

Back home

2005-11-16T17:47:00.000-08:00

It’s good to be back home at the North Pole.

Of course, there are parts of our visit to Western New York I miss.

We enjoyed several sunny days there when temperatures hit the 60s (F) – and even the 70s.

Yesterday, the sun rose here shortly after 11 a.m., and set around 3 p.m. And when I looked at the thermometer, it was -6.

The elves, gnomes and dwarves have been busy. The extra hands with our new residents have helped us to keep up with the growing demand.

For while the world has changed, my visit showed me that the spirit and joy of Christmas remains.

With all the wars, famines, droughts, hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, typhoons, monsoons, plagues, and assorted other disasters, in fact, I think some people are even more hungry for it than they have been in years.

A job offer

2005-11-15T14:53:00.000-08:00

One other amusing moment occurred during our visit to the Strong Museum in Rochester at the induction ceremony for the Toy Hall of Fame.

Shortly after the ceremony, Mrs. Claus and I were looking at a doll exhibit. A little girl was looking at the dolls too.

She turned to me and pointed to a sign.

“What does that say?”

I squatted down next to her and read the sign. It was something about where the dolls had been made.

I was concerned that the girl was alone.

“Where are your parents,” I asked.

“I don’t know. What does that say?” she asked, pointing to another sign.

I decided to stay with her. My wife stood with us. If no one showed up, we could take her to security.

I walked around with her and read some of the other signs. Finally, her mother – who had obviously been looking for her – rushed up to us.

“There you are,” she said with obvious relief. Then she looked at me warily.

“She has been helping me read the signs,” I said cheerily.

“He knows a lot about dolls,” the girl said to her mother. “Is he Santa?”

I laughed. Her mother did, too. After thanking us, she led the girl away.

At that point a large man approached us. He extended his hand.

We shook.

“My name is Don,” he said. “You are good with children.”

“I like them.”

“It shows,” he said. “I work at a local mall and at parties as Santa. They’re always looking for more people, and I get too many calls for parties to handle them all. I think you’d be a natural. And you have your own beard already. Have you ever thought of playing Santa Claus?”

“It has crossed my mind.”

He took out a card and gave it to me.

“Give me a call it you’re interested. I think you’d be great.”

I thanked him.

Gee, maybe I’ve found a part-time job for the holidays!

A Christmas gift idea!

2005-11-12T06:41:00.000-08:00

Although I've enjoyed our two-week trip to Western New York to survey the latest toys and the spirit of Christmas in the land, I got my biggest laugh yesterday thanks to something that often just gets thrown out.

A cardboard box.

Mrs. Claus and I attended induction ceremonies at the National Toy Hall of Fame. That's located in the Strong Museum in Rochester, N.Y.

I'd heard of both the museum and the Hall of Fame. I'd wanted to see both for a while, and our trip happily coincided with the induction ceremony.

The museum contains a delightful collection of dolls and toys, and has many exhibits aimed right at children. I recommend it.

The Hall of Fame is six years old. It already includes the likes of Barbie, Mr. Potato Head, Lincoln Logs, and the Slinky.

The induction ceremonies on Friday added the Candy Land game and the Jack-in-the-Box.

And the cardboard box!

It seems that children often have more fun playing with the boxes than the toys and gifts that came in them.

That's true. How many boxes have been turned into forts, sleds, helmets, robot costumes, and so on?

Museum officials said that boxes-as-toys have fostered learning and creativity - so cardboard boxes qualify for the Hall of Fame!

I laughed so loud at the announcement that several people looked at me.

Mead!

2005-11-11T05:18:00.000-08:00

One of the places we stopped was Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge.

There’s a visitor’s center, and a nearby winery. A winery that sells mead.

We first went to the refuge. It covers several thousand acres of marshland and waterways. The area is part of the flyway for migrating birds at the northern end of Cayuga Lake. Tens of thousands of birds stop there on their way south in the fall and north in the spring.

The park has a small office/gift shop.

I bought a Montezuma hat. (Yes, Santa sometimes acts like a tourist.)

Near the visitor’s center there is a small tower. People can climb it to look out over the marshlands at all the birds.

Mrs. Claus and I were enjoying the view when she started to laugh.

When I looked at her questioningly, she pointed down.

The tower was surrounded by a herd of deer!

Because of my special relationship with reindeer, all of their relatives have a fondness for me.

Well, I climbed down and greeted them all with a pat, and a carrot or two (amazing how much you can carry when you have pockets made of the same magic material as the Christmas gift sack!).

A family happened to be driving by, heading into the preserve to see the birds. You should have seen the look on the two children’s faces. A jolly, plump, white bearded man surrounded by deer.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

We then stopped at the Montezuma Winery just down the road.

I’d heard they sold good mead. I was not disappointed.

During the wine tasting, I tried as many of the mead varieties as I could. They were wonderful!

Mrs. Claus tried some of the fruit wines.

She let me try her Cranberry Bog. Delicious.

Now, let me say something here for my younger readers.

Santa is an adult. He does drink beer, wine, and other spirits – but always responsibly. I never have more than a glass or two, and I never drive the sleigh for at least an hour after a drink!

Anyway, we picked out several bottles to buy, and went to the check out.

The clerk was a young woman with a nose ring in her nose.

After she tallied our total for the bottles we’d brought to the counter, she asked, “Will there be anything else?”

“Yes. I’d like to have some mead shipped.”

“Fine. How many bottles?”

“Fifty cases each of your dry, sweet and semisweet, and ten cases of your Cherry Honey Wine.”

I thought her jaw was going to fall off.

“I, ah, I, um. I have to get the manager.”

She rushed to the back of the store, and returned a moment later with a young man.

“I understand you want to place a large order,” he said.

“Yes, 160 cases total.”

“Are you associated with a liquor store?” he asked suspiciously.

“No. But I run a factory in an isolated place. The workers live on site for long periods of time. We have to bring in all our supplies. And my workers have a fondness for mead.”

Indeed, the elves love their mead!

Well, he had to make a call to meadery home office.

It took close to half an hour, but we got final approval. They even gave us a discount.

I arranged to have the mead shipped to Zbigniew Ting’s place in Moosenee, Canada

As I paid, I told the manager, “By the way, we may be ordering more.”

“I think I’d like to see this place where they like mead this much,” the manager said.

I chuckled.

“Many folks feel the same way.”

As we left, I turned and waved.

“Thank you. And Merry Christmas!”

His eyes widened suddenly.

Sometimes it’s fun to be Santa!

Trip update

2005-11-10T17:38:00.000-08:00

Sorry I have not written in a while. We have been moving about.

It has been an enjoyable trip so far. We have seen many beautiful sites. The multi-colored leaves of the Finger Lakes hills reminded are magnificent. The lakes are beautiful, too.

And we have tasted may fine wines, some good mead, and even some beer.

We visited Naples, N.Y., and also tried grape pie. It was delicious.

As for toys, many of the toys are the same or similar to the dolls, blocks, games, and whatnot that have been popular for years. Oh, there are some tie-ins to television and movie character, and even video games, but on the whole, the toy market is the same.

At the North Pole, we don’t compete with the video game/computer market anyway.

As enjoyable as the trip has been, however, I am looking forward to returning home.

The trip begins: Halloween

2005-11-01T15:35:00.000-08:00

The trip is on!

Shortly after church on Sunday, Zbigniew Ting flew Mrs. Claus and me from the North Pole for a “scouting mission.”

I have tried to make such a trip every year. The goal is to see how the spirit of Christmas lives. I also want to see what children are like, and the kinds of things they want for Christmas.

Yeas ago, I made the trip around the time of the U.S. holiday of Thanksgiving. That used to be the beginning of the Christmas season.

No more.

Now the Christmas displays begin to go up in stores even before Halloween.

Such is the case this year.

After Zbigniew delivered us to Toronto, we rented a car and drove south to Western New York, where we plan to visit this year.

And yes, I do drive. Despite what my wife says, I do a fine job of it!

We crossed the U.S. Canadian border at the Peace Bridge. Although there have been new rules in place because of the fear of terrorism, we had no problem. I have a special visa signed by the President of the United States.

We stopped at a mall.

There were Christmas displays up.

In one store, I went to the clearance section where all the Halloween items were for sale at reduced prices – even though Halloween was still that night! – and boght some candy corn.

I’m partial to candy corn.

It was at that clearance section that I had my first real contact with children.

A girl who looked to be about six and her mother were looking through the costumes that were left. From their clothes, I guessed that they could not afford to spend much.

The selection was poor. Horrible looking monster and skeleton masks. A hockey mask with a knife stuck in it. Several cartoonish super heroes.

Nothing that would suit a six-year-old girl.

They were about to leave. The girl looked sad, but resigned.

“Excuse me,” I said, reaching into my shopping bag. “I changed my mind about this, but I think it would fit you daughter.”

I pulled out a cat costume.

“You could draw on a few whiskers with that makeup kit,” I said, pointing to remainder bin.

The girl brightened.

The mother looked for the price tag.

“I already paid for it,” I said. “Happy Halloween.”

I turned and left quickly before the woman could say anything.
“You are an old softy,” my wife said. She had seen the whole thing. “And what was the idea of doing a bit of gift magic this early?”

We later saw the mother and daughter across the parking lot. They were waiting at the bus stop. The girl was holding the costume. The mother looked relieved.

Last night, we stayed in a bed and breakfast near Batavia. Today, we are in Rochester. We will stay in a motel tonight, then travel south and east. I want to spend some time in the Finger Lakes region.

I’ve never been there before.

Well, except on Christmas Eve, of course.

Yes!

2005-10-30T03:52:00.000-08:00

Even before the sun rose, I rushed to the baker’s house.

I hesitated to knock.

Was I too early?

What if they were just waking?

What if they were just settling down to eat breakfast?

What if she had changed her mind?

The front door opened.

Anna Kristina stepped out.

She saw me, and laughed.

“I was just coming to see you,” she said.

“I have news.” I said.

“I do, too.”

“You go first.”

“No, you.”

“St. Peter,” we both blurted.

We both laughed.

“A visit?” I asked.

“You, too?”

“He’s been busy,” I said.

“He said that we were free to marry,” she said.

“He told me the same.”

At that point we hugged. We said nothing.

After a moment, we, pulled back, but still held hands.

“I have been dispensed from my promise of celibacy. He was the first pope, after all.”

“He told me we had a choice.”

“You know what I choose.”

“But,” she added, “he told me that as with all choices, there are consequences.”

“Yes, it will mean changes in my life style.”

“It could mean children, and a settled home.”

I nodded. “I had thought of that. But I can think of no better reason for changing my ways.”

We hugged again.

And that’s how we became engaged.

Some day I’ll tell you about our wedding.

Free to choose

2005-10-29T06:07:00.000-07:00

I jumped out of bed

"P..P..Peter?" I stammered.

I fell on my knees.

He stepped out of the shadows.

It was a familiar face. Solemn, yet kindly. A glint of mischief in his eyes.

I had seen that face the night I died.

"Nicholas. Nicholas," He said, with a hint of humor in his voice. "And they say I'm guided by my heart and not my head."

"I know I've been foolish."

"Foolish?" he said. "To fall in love? Love is one of the Lord's greatest gifts. Love for another gives us a taste of the love of the Lord for us."

He chuckled.

"Besides, I knew human love as well."

"What do I do? What does the Lord will."

"What do YOU want?"

"To marry. But my vows?"

"When you made those promises, you made them sincerely. You faithfully kept them in your lifetime, even though you struggled at times. But you always sought the Lord's aid whenever you struggled. You were a man of prayer. You still are."

"What of now?"

"Now? Now you have a special ministry in service to the Lord. It is a ministry you freely accepted when I first visited you the night you died. You could have chosen to enter your heavenly reward, but you willingly agreed to remain in the world."

I remembered that choice. To remain and bring joy to others. To keep alive the sense of wonder and magic. To make this world of sorrow and suffering also a place where people can experience a taste of heaven and its gifts. Especially the children.

It really wasn't a difficult choice at all. It was a gift.

"You have served God well. You have sought nothing for yourself.

"But when the Lord created man, he said it is not good for man to be alone. You have chosen to remain alone far longer than any other man has been asked to live.

"Moreover, the ministry you have accepted is growing. You have added helpers along the way. But what you need is a partner to share in the work and to provide mutual comfort and support.

"So, by the authority given me by Jesus Christ, I dispense you from the promise you made to remain unmarried for the sake of the kingdom. You are free to choose."

Then he was gone.

For a moment I wondered if it was all just a dream.

So I fell on my knees and prayed until the sun rose.

And in my heart, I knew.

A visitor

2005-10-23T18:05:00.000-07:00

I went home that night determined to go see the Bishop Freising as soon as possible.

I told Peter my plans.

“She is a wonderful person,” Peter said. “I wish I had met someone like her.”

“You still might,” I said. “Look how long it took me.”

“But I won’t live as long as you,” he said.

A part of the gift given me is that those who accompany me find their lives extended. Peter looked to be in his 20s, but he was actually more than 100.

My other companions have been similarly blessed with long life. But none had remained with me forever, and when we parted ways, they aged normally. I had been to the funerals of many good friends.

But this was the first time Pete had suggested that he might not stay with me.

“Are you thinking of leaving?”

“Not now. But if you marry, well, will you really want me around?”

“Of course. Besides, it may never happen.”

“Why? You love each other.”

“I was ordained. I made a promise of celibacy.”

“Didn’t that end when you died?”

“No. It is forever. I am a priest forever.”

He sighed.

“I am a loyal child of the Church,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I always understand it.”

A few hours later, I went to bed. I said my prayers as I always do.

Tonight my prayers included, “Lord, show me what you would have me do.”

I fell asleep. But in the night I suddenly awoke.

I sensed there was someone else in the room.

“Peter, is that you?”

“Yes.”

But the voice was not that of my Peter.

Grandfather Rupert to the rescue

2005-10-22T19:29:00.000-07:00

She went to the door and opened it.

“Please come back,” she said.

In filed her brothers and father. Nicholas gave me a small smile. Paul looked at me suspiciously.

They all stood facing us.

“Father, my brothers,” she began. “Good Master Nicholas came here tonight as an honorable man.

“In the woods it was I, not he, who began the kiss. I was foolish. I let my feelings get out of hand.

“He came here tonight to do the right thing. But he also came to point out to me some problems that could come from my feelings for him.

“One of those things is our difference in ages. Out of the kindness of his heart, he is ready not to hold my youth against me.”

Her brother Nicholas snorted as he struggled to hide a laugh. I could see a twinkle in his eye.

“So I will respect his wishes. I have told him he may call on me until such time we resolve the problems – if that is agreeable to you, Father?”

“I do not know what to say,” Jacob said. “There is, ah, a difference.”

“Yes,” Anna Kristina said. “But as Grandfather Rupert showed, a difference does not doom something that is good.”

The brothers all looked at each other. Jacob nodded his head.

“All right, then,” he sighed. “Master Nicholas, you are welcome to visit as is fitting. But the rules must be observed. That is proper.”

Anna Kristina turned to me.

“I will ask mother if you may join us for dinner tomorrow. I will send word to you.”

“I thank you,” I said to her, and then said to her brothers and father, “I thank you all.”

“I will see you out,” her brother Nicholas said.

At the door I asked him, “What did she mean about Grandfather Rupert?”

“He was a widower,” Nicholas said. “At age 70, he married a 20 year old woman. They had three children, and 25 happy years together. He considered remarrying after she passed away, too.”

He closed the door.

I think I would have liked to know Rupert.

The truth

2005-10-18T16:41:00.000-07:00

After her brothers and father left, I sat next to Anna Kristina.

”Before you speak, I want to say I’m sorry,” she said. “l came home feeling confused. My father asked me what was wrong, and I told him what happened. I’m sorry that I put you in this situation.”

“I came here willingly,” I said. “There is nothing to be sorry about.”

“But I am a foolish girl. To think…”

She looked down.

“To think what?”

“That, you, we..”

I took her hand.

“I like the sound of that `we,’” I said.

She looked at me, amazement in her eyes.

“Do you … care for me?” She asked.

“More than you can know.”

“But I am so young. I’ve never been away from my homeland. I know so little of life. And you are a man of the world. A traveler. A holy man.”

I laughed.

“And here I was thinking that you were troubled by my age.”

“Your age? I never thought of it. You are so young at heart.”

“Well, I think you for saying that. But my age is an issue. And something else.”

I chuckled.

Actually, a couple of things.”

“I don’t care about your age.”

“How old do you think I am?”

She thought for a moment.

“50? 60?”

“Much more than that.”

“But you don’t seem even that old.”

“Thank you. But I am much older. Older than you could even imagine. In fact, you might think me crazy if I told you. So I’ll tell you something that will sound even crazier.”

I took a deep breath.

“Your brother is named after Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra.”

“Yes.”

“I am Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra.”

“You are a bishop?” She gasped.

“Well, that’s unclear. I was bishop. But what I’m trying to say is that I am that Nicholas.”

She looked confused.

“The saint? But he died centuries ago.”

“Yes, I did. And that is another of those things I needed to tell you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I am Nicholas, one time Bishop of Myra. I died many years ago. But God gave me a great gift. He allowed me to remain in the world to continue to help people. Especially the children I so love.”

The she did something I never expected.

She laughed.

“I knew there was something special about you!”

“Then, you believe me?”

“My dear Nicholas, I know you are not a liar.”

“I am glad you believe me. But we have some problems we must face if we are to hope for more.”

She brushed her hand across my face.

“Whatever they are, we can face them together, God willing.”

“Yes, God willing.”

I shrugged.

“First, let me say that my heart’s desire is to make you my wife. I have never felt like that about any woman before. God willing, it can happen.

“But I was a priest and bishop. I made a promise to live celibate. I have kept that promise. I don’t know if that vow still holds because I died. And that is another problem. I died. I don’t know if that prevents me from living like other men. I have lived for centuries. I don’t know what would happen to one who lived with me.”

“How long has Peter been with you?”

“Close to a century,” I said. “So I guess the blessing is shared with those who are with me. But I don’t know if that would be the same with a wife.”

I suddenly stopped.

“And I am a foolish man. I have not even asked if that is what you would want.”

“With all my heart,” she said, suddenly hugging me.

“Well, we need to see if it can be done. But my life is a strange one. I travel for land to land, helping, teaching others to help, then moving on. Is that a life you would be happy with?”

“Helping others? Yes. And doing that with you? Yes many times over.”

“Then we need to find out if it can be done. I must appeal to Rome.”

“I think the first thing to do is to pray.”

I smiled.

“Of course. I will pray.”

“We will both pray.”

“And what do we tell your family?”

She laughed.

I’m glad she could laugh about that!

A "situation"

2005-10-16T17:58:00.000-07:00

Under different circumstances, I would have thought it a pretty impressive display with al the brothers gathered before me with arms folded.

Eight brothers. Some of them quite large. All staring at me.

In keeping with the religious nature of the family, they were, Jacob – after the baker himself – then Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Peter, Paul, and, of course, Nicholas.

The baker joined them.

“I understand the situation with my daughter has changed.”

“Yes,” I said.

“This means that she can’t travel with you.”

“Father…,” she began.

“He held up his hand.

“You in the company of a senior member of our community and a friend, fine. But now.”

“You kissed her,” Nicholas blurted.

“Actually, she kissed me.”

They all looked at her. She nodded.

“It does not matter,” the baker said. “A line has been crossed.”

“Yes,” I said. “But if I might have a moment alone with Ann Kristina, we might be able to resolve the situation.”

Young Paul – who was all of eight – sputtered, “But you’re so old.”

The baker looked at him sharply. The he turned to me.

“You may talk to her. We will leave the room for a few minutes.”

They all stood and left.

Paul gave me a funny look.

Nicholas looked at Anna, then at me. Then he winked and left.

When we were alone, I looked at Anna.

“So this is a situation,” I said. “I’ve never been in a situation before.”

“Neither have I,” she said.

"Well, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be in a situation with.

She smiled.

“But," I said, "I think it’s time for a little truth.”

The brothers gather

2005-10-15T19:23:00.000-07:00

When young people fall in love, they rush into things, allowing their passion to sweep aside reason.

But at my age, wisdom rules.

At least that’s what I told myself.

So I waited.

Two long days.

Two days full of butterflies in my stomach.

Two days of snickers from Peter.

Maybe his nickname – Black Peter – did have some merit after all!

On Sunday, I went to Mass. I sat at the back, as was my custom.

Anna Kristina and her family sat at the front, as was their custom.

She did not turn once.

But I had the feeling she knew I was there.

At the end of Mass, I waited until I was sure her family was home.

I went up to their front door and knocked.

Her father greeted me.

“Ah," he said, a knowing smile on his face. “We have been expecting you. Come in.”

He led me into their parlor, where Anna Kristina sat.

She was flanked by her brothers.

All of them.

All of them standing with their arms folded!

An answer without words

2005-10-14T16:59:00.000-07:00

I remained hidden in the bushes.

My heart was breaking.

I was sure that she was in love with another man. A younger man. A handsome man.

It was at that moment that a bug flew up my nose. I sneezed.

“Who’s there?” Anna said, wiping her eyes.

I stepped out from the bushes.

“Sorry I startled you,” I said. I pointed to my nose. “A bug.”

“Oh.”

We both smiled awkwardly.

“Well,” she finally said. “I need to get back to the shop.”

“Yes. Well…”

She picked up her honey bucket and turned to leave.

Say something, you fool, I thought.

I moved toward her.

“It that heavy,” I said, pointing to the bucket. “Do you need a hand?”

“No, thank you. My cart is near.”

We both smiled awkwardly again.

Suddenly I burst out laughing. It was all so silly.

Then she laughed.

We laughed until the tears ran down our faces.

I wiped my eyes and looked at her.

“You know,” I said. “You are beautiful when you laugh. And when you cry.”

She looked at me with uncertainty.

“In fact, you look beautiful all the time. I’m sorry I never said that sooner.”

She touched her hand to her cheek. She smiled ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” she said. “You are kind.”

“Just honest.”

She shifted the bucket to her other hand.

“It is heavy,” I said. “Let me carry it for you.”

She gave it up willingly. We walked side by side to her cart. I put the bucket in the back, then offered her a hand to help her up.

She took my hand. But instead of climbing into the cart, she suddenly pulled herself toward me and kissed me on the lips.

Then she let my hand go, jumped onto her cart, and shook the reins.

I watched as she disappeared.

I smiled.

I knew then that I would indeed have to talk to the Bishop of Freising.

But not yet.

Tears

2005-10-12T17:23:00.000-07:00

The next day, I went to the bakery.

“Nicholas,” Anna Kristina’s father said warmly, “I am so glad to see you. You have not blessed my shop in weeks.”

“I have been busy helping in other towns.”

“So I hear,” he said. “All Anna Kristina talks about is what you do. She can’t believe a man of your age has so much energy.”

My age? My heart sank.

“When you are doing the Lord’s work, you find strength,” I said.

He chuckled. “You and my Anna are certainly working for the Lord. Many a shop owner would like workers like you to. You put me to shame!”

“Ah, is she about today?”

“Today? Yes. She is off gathering honey.”

Honey? Could she be back at my farm?

I thanked him and hurried back to the farm.

I went to where I had first seen her gathering honey.

Before I saw her, I heard her. Singing. The same low song I’d first heard her sing as she charmed the bees.

When I got to the spot, I saw her, draped in cloth to keep her safe from the bees.

But there was no need for that, really. The bees had all settled down in response to her song.

She ended by closing her honey container, then saying, “Thank you, brother bees.”

She moved away from to hive, then pulled of the cloths covering her head.

Then se sat on a fallen tree.

She sighed. I saw some tears trickle down her cheek.

“Oh Lord,” she said softly, “please guide me. Do I tell him?”

I suddenly felt empty.

Who was “him,” and what did she want to tell him?