The Santa Example (12-03-07)

Last night, I learned a thing or two from Santa Claus.

During the Hill City Christmas Lighting ceremony, the jolly old elf rode to the park in a giant red sleigh (okay, it was actually a fire truck) and took up residence in “Santa’s House.”

I was there with just one of my children, my four-year-old daughter Jocelyn. Mom was home with a sick baby, and my two oldest weren’t keen on waiting in the freezing cold.

But the magic still lives in the heart of my four-year old, and I bundled her up and we headed for the park.

When Santa arrived, we were enjoying our hotdogs and cookies by the warmth of the outdoor fireplace, which as you all know is at the opposite end of the park from Santa’s domicile. So when the siren sounded and the cheer arose in the air, we were nowhere near to getting in line. By the time we meandered back, the line was well down the street and we were dead last.

Now, if I had been smart, I would have taken Jocelyn back to the van, and perhaps back home, for 30 minutes or so and returned to the park when the line had dwindled. Instead, I asked my young daughter if she wanted to stay, and her warm smile from behind the fringe of her artic hood kept us planted at the back of the line.

Twenty minutes later, cold and impatient, we found ourselves crammed inside the shelter house (I mean Santa’s house) with other families, all waiting for their chance with the man (or elf) of the hour.

The scene was fairly chaotic. There were at least two screaming toddlers, a few pushy middle school kids, and a regular barrage of camera flashes. We were packed in like toy soldiers and I picked up Jocelyn to both give her a better view and to keep her from being stepped on by those leaving and those trying to get ahead in line.

And then I looked at Santa. In the midst of all the hub-bub, he alone was an island of serenity and calm. I stood transfixed and amazed as he patiently listened to each young (and not so young) person who sat on his lap. He leaned in close to hear each Christmas wish, and his attention never seemed to waiver from his charges.

It was an inspiring display of focus and presence. I was so impressed with Santa’s restraint and caring. It would have been all too easy for him to try to hurry the kids along, to refuse the parents that third, fourth, or fifth photograph, to get a little testy in the midst of all that noise and distraction.
Yet Santa never once lost his composure, and it seemed that the wilder things got, the calmer he became. On this night, Old Saint Nick really earned the Saint part of his name.

As an educator, as an administrator, as a father, and as a person who spends a majority of his time working with and around children, I will never forget the example set by Santa Claus. He reminded me that no matter how crammed and crazy things become, no matter how many people demand how many things, you have to keep your calm. He taught me that the most important thing for anyone who works with children is to provide and maintain a caring and supportive focus on our kids.

Thank you Santa. By your example, you have proven yourself to be worthy of the love and respect of children (and adults) the world over. Merry Christmas!