One of the warmest Christmas memories that I have was the year that I was Santa Claus. I was a young, substitute teacher with a new family just starting out in life. I was called in to work at the local grade school on the last day before the Christmas holidays. Near the end of the day I was summoned to the principal’s office and asked to be the Santa who visited all the classrooms. Being a great lover of both children and Christmas I agreed.

I can still remember going from classroom to classroom doing my best to sound both old and jolly at the same time. I was about 50 pounds heavier then so I had the round little belly part down fine. My beard, however, was another matter as it kept sliding halfway down my face. I think that more than a few of the kids recognized me, but it didn’t matter. They still rejoiced in seeing Santa. They still laughed and delighted in their small gifts and candy canes. They still felt joyous and happy. They still knew that they were loved and that was all that mattered to them.