2017.1 Santa Paul

Welcome Back.  I had intended to close out last year with a bang and share this amazing thing that happened.  It is Paul’s story, so I had asked him to write about it, and he said he would.  Then in typical Paul fashion he never got around to it.  I think he had intentions of doing it, but I also think all the fuss about it made him uncomfortable.  So, here we are a year later and I am telling the story.  If we are lucky, there may be a follow up to this story.  As of today, Matthew is planning on interviewing Paul about it and writing it up for the blog.

Here is the short version.  Last year Paul lost his wallet.  He had spent the morning with a group of NW Classen students at a local Head Start program passing out presents.  Paul was participating dressed as Santa Claus.  This was the second year he had done this, and I am not sure who enjoyed it more, Paul or the children. 

Not actual Children from the News Story

When they took a break for lunch, the NW Classen students walked across the street to get lunch.  On this walk, Paul’s wallet fell out of his pocket.  Apparently Santa’s pants have shallow pockets.  Wallet fell out, and he did not even notice it when it happened.  He had about $8 in his wallet and his new photo id.  I suspect he was more disappointed in losing the wallet than in losing the money.   

The story doesn’t end there. In fact, check out the news 9 coverage of the event.

And you can also check out coverage on this channel

And when I looked it up today online for the links to share the store I discovered that it has also been on posted on liftable dot com and littlethings dot com

There are not even words to tell you how proud I am of Paul every day.  Many people said that this recognition could not have happened to a more deserving kid, and that is certainly true.  What I am left wondering about this whole situation is how that little boy who refused to sit on Santa’s lap, ever, and who swore that only he, Paul, was getting presents for his brother, how did that little boy grow up to be Santa?  I’d ask, but senor grouchy pants probably doesn’t have an answer tonight.  I would ask his brother but he is just as grouchy and less likely to answer.  So here is my take away, I think at some point my dear son Paul figured out that not all little kids have brothers like him; looking out for them and ensuring they get presents.  My friend Chelsey asked this week when do you tell your children the truth, and someone on her timeline bemoaned the fact that it is sad when your child “looses the magic.”  I am going to say that as my son got older his knowledge of Santa didn’t take anything away from his enjoyment of the holiday, it only added to Christmas, not just his, but to others as well. 

My Little Paul

This whole situation, the recognition that he received and the generosity of the employees at Pace Butler, really made the whole holiday season for my Paul.  I am forever grateful for that.  More important I love the heart of my boy who was trying to give Christmas to others.  

Day Seven

La La La.

Alright, so once upon a time Kathleen had a boss. Not the boss she has now, nor even the boss she had before the boss she had now. Many years ago, ok not that many since I am not that old, but you get the idea. This guy did not like Kathleen. No, seriously he did not like her. I know, it sounds hard to believe but it is true. He wasn’t mean or anything, but he just was not a fan of Kathleen’s.

So every year we have this party and I try to be selective about who we invite, but Kathleen is kind and loving and invites people that I find irritating, but since she does it out of the goodness of her heart I put up with it. (Because I try and encourage her to be kind and loving to people who do not deserve it since the day she stops you know she will kick me to the curb). As a result, she tends to invite the people she works with. This is not to say that I do not like the people she works with, because I do like many of them, especially any of them that might be reading this. Some of them that I am sure would never ever read this, I may have found irritating in the past. But maybe only once and it was a long long time ago. I hope you get my point.

So in the dark and distance past, Kathleen took party invitations to everyone in her office. Invitations that I labored over were taken and distributed to people, including the aforementioned boss. All of this was in the spirit of Christmas and yuletide good times. At the end of the day Kat went into the office of the boss to drop off some paperwork and found the un-opened invitation in the trash. Ok, really? In the trash? Like he could not even take it home and throw it away there? Kathleen, being the kind hearted loving person she is, took it out of the trash and put it back on his desk. Not that he came to the party. The fact that he didn’t want to come to the party does not make him a bad person. But I have never been able to figure out the ‘just throw it away and not open it’ thing. What is that? How do you not even be curious what is in the envelope? Maybe there was cash? I am just saying.

So then, years later, Kathleen encounters this man at a work conference and he snubs her again. I know right? So Kathleen comes home and shares the story with me and with our nephew Baby Scott, (who was 16 at the time). Baby Scott thought Kathleen was making it up. We assured him it was true, that this man does not like Kathleen. Baby Scott offered up this gem of an insight, “there must be something seriously wrong with him, like deep down inside, really messed up. That is the only explanation of why someone would not like Kathleen.”

This story has 3 morals.
1. Some people are idiots
2. Baby Scott Rocks.
3. There really is a list, and sometimes Kat lets me cross people off of it.

Day Two

Either you missed out on day one, so essentially you are late for the party, or you came back for more.

I am calling today’s memory Christmas Karma or how tree envy can bite you on the . . .

When I was in the 2nd grade (circa 1977) my mom had made the decision that rather than spend the $ on a Christmas tree she would donate that to a local charity, and instead she would take evergreen branches from a friend who had recently trimmed the trees in his yard and we could decorate those. The result was 3 or 4 very large branches stuck in a giant green plastic laundry bucket filled with sand and water to hold them in place. It did not look tree like; instead it more closely resembled a deranged shrub. But the decision had been made so we hung lights and ornaments.

The last day of school before Christmas break my teacher Ms. Dickson asked all the children who did not have a Christmas tree yet to raise their hands. If she had asked for children who were not going to get a Christmas tree, or whose parents could not afford a Christmas tree I would have kept my hand down, but because she said “yet” I thought I had a chance, so I raised my hand. I was the only one who did, so either everyone else had been blessed with a real tree that year, or they were too afraid to admit it. Ms. Dickson graciously informed me that I could take the classroom tree home.

I was so excited as I waited by the curb with my tree for my Mom to collect me. Luckily the family vehicle was a blue 1972 VW van so I knew there was plenty of room. When the van rolled up and the door opened there was already a tree inside. My sister Jenni had brought home the first grades classroom tree as well. My mother had tried to explain to Jenni’s teacher, and then to mine, that it wasn’t that we could not afford a tree, it was that we had made the decision as a family to give that money to charity. I do not know if the teachers believed her or not, but either way, my tree joined my sisters in the van.

I was set to undecorated the unsightly bush in the dining the dining room and hang our family treasures on my tree, but my Mom was not going for that. So this was the year that Jenni had a tree in her bedroom, and I had tree in my bedroom, and we opened our presents seated around Charlie brown’s Christmas tree’s mutant cousin.
But wait . . . there is more.

Flash forward to 2004. My Paul was in the first grade and Matthew was 3. If you know Kathleen and me, then you know that the tree issue is sort of a compromise. I come from tree people and Kathleen comes from not tree people, (no they are not Jewish, although that is a common misconception). So, some years we have a big tree, and some years we, ok, *I* have to make do with a miniature tree, (or several as the case may be). 2004 was not a big tree year.

That year Paul’s elementary school had been adopted by a local church and in the fall every child received a school uniform and a new pair of shoes from this church. At the beginning of winter every child received a warm jacket. I was a little uncomfortable with this as Kat and I can certainly afford to buy our children what they need, and even if that were not the case, their grandparent’s would never let them go without. However, the argument was made that I would rather be a little uncomfortable about it and have some children who might really need these items get them, than to refuse the gift that was offered.

After the coats I was thinking we were done with the free gifts. I know now I was wrong, so very wrong.

Right before Christmas break there was a knock on the door one night. I opened it to find a man dressed in a Santa Clause suit and his merry band of helpers. Paul had been selected to be the recipient of Santa’s bounty. They brought in several wrapped presents for both boys, and since we did not have a tree they also gifted us with a three foot artificial light up color changing led tree. I showed them the mini trees we had up, I showed them the wrapped presents on top of the entertainment center, and I offered to show them the gifts I had not wrapped yet as proof that we absolutely were not the people that needed this blessing. I was practically begging them to take this stuff away, but they would not listen. The more I tried to explain, the more they looked at me with that “bless his heart” expression and I knew there was no way I would ever convince them that we were not a needy family.

I do not fault Paul for this fiasco. I am sure they asked his class who had a tree, and we did not. Or more likely he made a pronouncement that Santa wasn’t coming to his house, since we do not do Santa (which is a story for another day), and it was taken the wrong way.

My Mom was not around to hear how this played out, but I am sure she would have appreciated the symmetry and poetic justice in the whole story.