A Magical Dinner Encounter

Yesterday I picked Linnea up from dayschool and then went to pick up dinner from our current restaurant fave “Big Bowl”. Linnea loves their chicken satay, rice and potstickers, and we’re all a little too hooked on their homemade ginger ales.

As I carried Linnea toward the bar to pick up our bags of take out, who should be sitting just outside the bar area? Santa. I swear to God. Not your typical department store Santa in the angel-hairy wig and beard and red and white outfit with a pillow rounding out his mid-section. This particular gentleman had long white hair and a long white beard, that were clearly his own. He had on black pants and boots, a white flowy shirt, and black suspenders decorated with holly and ivy. He was not a fat man, but no “extra” padding was necessary to fill out his tummy. He was wearing silver half-glasses, and enjoying a heaping helping of stir fry.

When he saw Linnea, his entire face lit up and he said softly and gently, “Well, hello there, sweet tiny girl! How are you today?”

We haven’t told Linnea much about Santa…not for any reason, but just because we figure there’s time yet to get into all of that. She’s just now figuring out Christmas trees. But lemmetellya: She was enraptured.

“Who dat, Mama?”
“Why, that’s Santa Claus, Baby.”
(in a dazed way) “Danta Cwas.”
“Mmm-hmm.”

I walked away with a smile at the gentleman, leaving him to his Chinese food, and collected my family’s supper. As we walked away, I paused just long enough to say, “Can you say ‘Merry Christmas’ to Santa?”

“Mewy C’mas, Danta.” she whispered.
“Merry Christmas to you, too, little one.”
I thanked him, wished him a Merry Christmas, and left. Linnea with dinner-plate eyes watched him for as long as she could (thank God they are no longer weeping puss so that this action was a whole lot more appetizing for Santa than it would have been this time last week).

When we got home, I told Linnea to tell Daddy who we saw at the restaurant. Without missing a beat, she turned to M and said, “Bobby Hill.”

Snort. She’s so crushing.

But then she shook her head, dimpled, and said, “No, Daddy. Danta Cwas!”

God Bless this man for taking a few moments out of his dinner to spread the Christmas magic to my little girl. He didn’t have to do it, I wouldn’t have intruded on him, but he said hello to her first, and in doing so gave her her first experience with Santa that wasn’t scary, wasn’t somehow fake, and had nicely-scented Chinese food breath. He was magic. Thank you, Santa Claus.