Finding the real Santa

When I was eight years old, I thought I’d found the “real” Santa. He came dressed in full attire, bounding joyfully into my living room that Christmas Eve. Then I noticed that he sounded remarkably like my father.

Little did I know that pretending to be the “real” Santa would later become one of my life’s greatest joys.

When I was teaching elementary school, just before we began our holiday break, I annually donned my red suit and trod up and down the hallways.

Santa - who was indeed lively and quick - joyfully darted in and out of every classroom, personally greeting hundreds of children.

Following is a brief synopsis of how it went each year. I will recollect it for the reader as if it were all happening live, here and now:

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