A visit to St. Nick

I took Elspeth, 8, and Alyssa, 6, to visit Santa Claus today at the Westshore Mall in Holland. This was the first year I've done it. I've usually been working and my wife has taken them.

Both were concerned that they might not get to see Santa this year -- a new fear and I'm not sure where it came from. Seems Santa visited them at school last week, but both said he was one of the real Santa's helpers, not the real thing. Again, I don't know where that came from.

Well, we headed out in the lake effect snow that was fitting to a cheesey Hollywood holiday movie. The girls were chatty and added to their lists as we drove along. We even sang a few holiday songs as we chugged up an icy 58th Street, but as we approached the mall, the girls quieted down and become contemplative.

Both waited patiently in line -- we were third or so. When it was their turn, they we cautious, sized up the man in the red suit and determined he was the real thing.

Elspeth asked him for a stuffed baby baboon. Really. She's into monkeys now. Santa had to ask for a repeat on that. Alyssa asked in a whisper for a My Little Pony Butterfly Island and Santa nodded. She acknowledged later that day as I tucked her in to bed that she was "shy" around Santa.

What was nice was that the Santa site was sponsored by The Sentinel (I didn't know that until I got to the location) and Jon Lundstrom, head of the paper's Internet department, was friendly and helpful on the scene.

As we left Santa to spend some time looking at monkey-themed items in the Limited Too, both girls remember things they wanted to tell the jolly old elf. They'll be sending him letters this week.

Well, looking over the narrative, I see it's not much to folks who don't have kids, but this was a father-daughters bonding moment. I don't get many of these since my work hours tend to conflict with prime bonding hours. I hope they hold this memory as I hold similar ones from my youth.

I have memories of meeting Santa at the Carvel Ice Cream store on Route 20 in Hamburg. I recall my dad taking me and me wearing a green jacket with a hood lined in white fur and my dad wearing his dark blue ski hat and a red-plaid jacket. I seem to see myself not being too happy sitting on Santa's lap, but I'm never comfortable being the center of attention.

I can also see myself in the crowded auditorium of the Masonic Temple in the Village of Hamburg with Santa up on the stage calling groups of kids up by age to receive toys. The chairs were wooden and the hall drafty but full of childhood anticipation.

Lastly, the traditional family memory that I know even the modern generation of kids shares with me is Santa riding up our street in a fire truck. The Town of Hamburg Fire Department dispatched Santa in a bucket truck on Christmas Eve and, if the weather was tolerable and the road plowed (not a given!), the truck would stop and a firefighter would hand out candy canes. How cool is that!

Thought: As Fred Flintstone said, "Christmas is my favorite time of year because everyone can be a Santa Claus."