Santa finds plenty of cheer

When you're in the Santa brigade, it helps to put on a little weight.

I don't fit the profile of a Santa. I don't have a red nose, a big belly that shakes like a bowl fully of jelly or even a single reindeer.

But Thursday night I donned a Santa suit to help deliver Toybox presents to needy boys and girls in our community.

There were 22 Santas milling around the North Pole. OK, it was a vacant store and Mrs. Claus wasn't anywhere to be found. She was probably too busy laughing at the sight of all those guys in their worn Santa suits.

We even posed for a picture prior to hitting our sleighs, which in this case were trucks and vans donated by area businesses.

I'm sure we looked more like a gang of robbers with bad disguises. At least our hearts were in the right place even if our stomachs weren't.

I admit that some of us looked a little light for the part. I rolled up my St. Louis Rams jacket and stuffed it under my sweater to give me a little more girth. The first white wig I put on made me look like George Washington. I changed to a different one and grabbed a fake beard and mustache. I was eating too much of the white stuff with that one so I switched to a different beard that made me look less like a Santa School reject.

There's nothing like a room full of Santas to get people's attention.

A few years ago, several Toybox Santas all stopped by a local convenience store for a bathroom break at the same time. It was a shock to a boy who was in the store with his mom at the time and couldn't comprehend why there was more than one Santa roaming the aisles.

Still, there's nothing like traveling the streets of Cape Girardeau in a rumbling delivery truck intent on spreading Christmas joy.

I had a driver and his elf-for-the-night son as helpers. I shouted "ho-ho-ho, Merry Christmas" in my best Santa voice.

Fortunately, I only frightened a few kids who were scared of this strange, bearded guy who suddenly showed up in their living rooms with fogged up glasses, the result of going from the cold night air to warm living rooms in the blink of an eye.

At times, I had to do without the glasses entirely or risk stumbling around like a blind man.

Several young men hanging out in the old neighborhoods we traveled couldn't help but notice our Christmas crew.

We carried a list of names and addresses. But even so, it wasn't always easy to find the right house. We often had to climb flights of steep, wooden stairs or make our way to rear apartments that weren't readily seen from the street.

The real Santa can drop down chimneys to get to where he's going. He doesn't have to climb stairs or check house numbers with a flashlight.

Of course, he has to have more stamina than Andre the Giant to deliver tons of presents to the world's girls and boys in a single night. I was tired after visiting just 32 homes.

But it was worth it to see all those bright-eyed children, eager to see Santa.

Many of the children gave me hugs and squealed with delight at the sight of the bearded man in their homes. Some gave me Christmas cards and letters.

Parents snapped photos of me standing proudly in their living rooms with their children.

When it was over, I returned to the North Pole for pizza and a soda.

After all, Santa's got to keep his weight up.

Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.