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her friends and older siblings telling her that Santa did not exist.
I too wanted her to hold onto her belief for at least one more
year—to the magic that could never be replaced once lost. I
would like to say that my reading of Yes Virginia, There is a Santa
Claus was what kept her believing for one more year, but instead
it was a trip to Park City and a chance encounter with the man
who played the role of the Park City Santa.
As we stood in a holiday-long line at Arbys, we must have been
discussing that upcoming Christmas and gifts that my daughter
had on her list. Perhaps there was even a discussion of Santa
and her doubts (it was a very long line). I didn’t see Santa until
we were looking for a booth to eat our junior roast beefs and
our curly fries; Alyx saw him too. Park City has always had an
authentic looking Santa; and despite him being on lunch break in
his suspenders at Arbys, he certainly looked like the real thing.
Even Santa needs to eat! I watched my seven-year-old daughter,
with a mixture of hope and doubt in her eyes, hesitantly
approach this man at his table and say, “Hello, Santa.” I held my
breath, knowing that to her this was the final test of her belief.
To my amazement, Park City Santa said, “Hello, Alyx.” And then
asked her to sit down across from him. What followed was a
conversation about her Christmas wishes, as well as a discussion
about Mrs. Claus. I know that Santa must have overheard her
name as we stood in that long line, but she didn’t. My sevenyear-old
daughter walked away from that booth with complete
faith in her eyes and with the knowledge that Santa “was real.”
After all, he knew her name and what she wanted for Christmas.
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If I could have, I would have gone back and thanked this for
giving my daughter the magic of believing for one more year,
but I didn’t want to blow his cover, nor did I want her to see
me talking to him. So the sharing of this Christmas memory is
my way of saying thank you to the Park City Santa of 1996, who
spoke to a little girl on his lunch break at Arbys and who restored
her belief in Santa! I am positive that it is because of him that my
seventeen-year-old daughter still puts out cookies and milk (and
carrots for the reindeer), and it is because of him that every year
I still eat those cookies, leaving crumbs on the plate as evidence
that the spirit of Santa will always live on in our home!
* * * * *
Barb Huber Bidding,
General Manager,
Mercedes-Benz of Lancaster
I grew up in the Huber household with four girls, my mom, and
a boat. My parents decided we would take “My Sixth Girl,” the
boat, to Ft. Lauderdale for Christmas. We were told that was
our gift, and they had palm trees in Florida. No need for a tree.
Christmas morning we woke up and arrived on the back deck
to find a beautiful Christmas tree and presents. The tree and
gifts were hidden on the fly bridge of the boat. We were very
impressed that Santa delivered to boats too!
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* * * * *
Anonymous
A few years ago, when my children were
at the perfect “Santa” age, on Christmas
evening we set the fresh baked cookies
on the designated Santa plate and went
outside to place a small pile of reindeer
food in the front yard to help them
keep their energy up for the long night.
Fortunately this was a year we had a
white Christmas. When the children were
tucked in bed, I ventured down to our
crawl space and pulled out my old dusty
snow skis, boots, and poles from winters
gone by. With a major straddle split and
poles digging in front of me, I was able
to spike my way across the front yard to
the reindeer food and on to the plowed
driveway for my untracked get-away.
Christmas morning, after presents were
opened and the children started playing
with the boxes, we ventured out to check
the reindeer food. Much to my satisfaction
the little detectives were able to point
out the reindeer and sleigh tracks to their
surprised parents. Later in the day when
our family came to visit, the kids were
anxious to show their tracking evidence.
The view was so convincing even my
thirty-year-old brother-in-law became
a re-believer! FLL