Really, I did!
The Workshop, where all the toys are made, is at the North Pole. But Santa doesn’t live there. He lives in a small, rural farming community in Central California. It was my weekend to work and I was sent to teach Santa how to do wound care for Mrs. Claus.
Poor Santa! It was a very busy Christmas for him. Not only did he have all those toys to make and then deliver, Mrs. Claus had surgery on her back and got an infection. She is still recuperating from the ordeal. And Santa’s eyes were bloodshot….he has been pulling a lot of overtime recently.
He spent the month of December making public appearances in his little community, listening to the children as they told him their wishes, and then, carefully promising them that he would “do the best I can” to make their wishes come true.
As honorary mayor of his little community, he was the force behind the group that provided 900 children with Christmas gifts that they might not otherwise have received. Looking at the smile on his face as he told me, I could see how much being Santa means to him.
I didn’t realize that I would be seeing Santa. I just knew that I was going to a small community on the west side of the valley. I have a new definition for a small town: it was so small, they closed down the main street in town to take down the Community Christmas tree.
That’s a small town.
When I arrived at Santa’s house, I knew instantly that he is the real deal. I would know that laugh anywhere! He has beautiful white hair and he has shaved off his beard “for the spring and summer”. And yes, his stomach shakes like “a bowl full of jelly” when he laughs.
And he laughs often.
He took me into the bedroom and there, lying on the bed with her two dogs, was Mrs. Claus. She was just as I imagined she would be: white hair, rosy cheeks, constant smile, and a twinkle in her eyes. It was fun to watch the two of them interact: they have been married for sixty years and yet, they look at each other as if they just fell in love yesterday.
It was inspiring and it was sweet.
Santa was in the Navy in World War II. He was on a tanker that delivered airplane fuel to air bases in the South Pacific. He survived the torpedoing of his boat—twice! How do I know that? Because he said he would rather be on that boat, as the torpedo hit, than hurting his wife by doing the wound care.
He took instructions well.
In dealing with caregivers and wound care, I try to teach the logic and the end result, not a bunch of tasks. If people understand what they are trying to accomplish, and why, they are much more likely to remember what to do and to do it correctly.
It took him a long time to do the wound care. It is a complex wound but that was not the problem: he cannot talk and do the wound care at the same time, and he was talking a mile a minute! And I was enjoying listening.
He has a million stories to tell—or so he tells me—and so far, they are all very interesting!
When he finished doing the wound care, he was perspiring. I praised his accomplishment and he lit up with a smile. He helped his wife get more comfortable and tucked the covers in around her……it was very touching to watch.
Still talking almost constantly, Santa walked with me to the front door. He stopped talking and shook my hand. I could see there were tears forming in his eyes as he looked at me: “You know, she is my whole life and, I don’t know what I would do if……..” His voice trailed off and I gave him a hug.
It doesn’t surprise me that he loves his wife so much. Any man who could labor so hard, and so long, to make toys for all the children in the world, then spend a whole night delivering them, HAS to have a heart full of love.
And he does.
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