We have our Santa for this year. Hands down the most “liked” Santa of them all. Holly has some reservations but she’s okay with him…so Merry, Merry and look for this guy in your living room…if you believe, of course.
“Who are you?”
“A homeless man.”
“What’s your name?”
“You can’t be Santa.”
“You don’t look anything like him.”
“Have you ever met me before?”
“Uh, no. But I’ve seen people pretending to be Santa.”
“Those pretenders are’t me. I’m me.”
“If you’re Santa, why are you homeless?”
“People don’t really believe in me anymore. Kids think their parents put gifts under the tree.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” he said, unhappily.
“You’re just a man on a bench. What’s there to believe in? Anyone could say they were Santa.”
“You need proof, am I right?”
“It might help but I’m not all that concerned about who you are. I just wanted to give you a sandwich. I’m helping people pass them out.”
“No one cares who anyone else is any longer.”
“That’s not entirely true. Look, do you want the sandwich or not?”
“I’ll take it for Dancer. He hasn’t been feeling that well.”
“Sure, and here’s one for Prancer.”
“Thank you. She’ll be grateful.”
“That’s not a good diet for reindeer, you know.”
“We eat what we have.”
“Why don’t the elves help you?”
“They went home a long time ago. No toys to make, nothing to do.”
“Where are the reindeer, anyway?” he asked, looking around.
“On the rooftop.”
He looked up but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Well,” he said, giving him enough sandwiches for all of the reindeer, just in case. “Have a nice night.”
The man thanked him and watched the boy walk away. “Merry Christmas, William,” he whispered.
The reindeer tracked the boy, from the top of the apartment building. Once he disappeared, they snorted and pawed at the roof, in anticipation of their dinner.