Monday, 7 December 2015
The First TIme I Met Santa
Do you have a memory of meeting Santa for the first time?
The very first time I met Santa it did not go well.
I was three years and four months old. We were living in a Newfoundland outport at the time and the whole community had gathered at the school for the arrival of Santa. Their custom was to have a big party for the children when school had closed for the holidays. Desks were pushed back and chairs arranged in a circle around the room.
I say I remember well the sound of the sleigh bells ringing, first far off in the distance and then coming closer. This added to the tension and excitement in the room. Then suddently Santa burst into the room. His job was to call each child up to sit on his lap and receive the gift their parents had provided.
When it was my turn, I went beserk so I'm told. I don't remember that part. There was no way I was going near that creature. My mother, mortally embarrassed with the whole community watching, coaxed and pleaded. No way. It didn't happen; she had to carry me and accept the present on my behalf with me refusing to even look at Santa.
The irony of all this was the fact that Santa was my father. Dad was the teacher there and various duties fell on his shoulders, one of which was to be the Santa at the community party. As embarrassed as my mother was, she had to admit my antics added to the general merriment of all those gathered and was often talked about afterwards.
My father doesn't have an acting bone in his body; I've often wondered how he managed to carry that off. He was much more natural leading a church service which he was also called to do from time to time.
No, funny how so many first meetings with the jolly old elf don't go so well.
I have to share this next little story. This is Santa being pulled by a Newfoundland pony around the outport of Point Leamington, Newfoundland. For a donation Santa will deliver a present to your house on Christmas Eve. The money raised goes to someone in need of help that year.