Yes, Chelsea, there is a Santa….

Yes, Chelsea, there is a Santa….

Santa.

As all single working mothers know, it’s tough trying to go in different directions and do at least three different things at the same time. I was having one of those days. There were car repairs to take care of, Christmas shopping to do and the transporting of children to lessons in between. The last thing I needed was just a little thing to go wrong and of course it did.

After finishing my Christmas shopping, thinking that I was all set and the house was decorated, I discovered that one string of Christmas lights on the tree was not working. I found two burned out bulbs.

Yes, Chelsea, there is a Santa….

A helping hand from Santa.

So, off to Wal-Mart my son and I went while my daughter was at dance class in Mansfield. All of the Christmas decorations and accessories had been well picked over by this time and the store was very crowded with shoppers. There weren’t enough clerks to help a customer find anything. As I picked through display after display of lights and replacement bulbs in vain, a very nice elderly gentleman approached me and asked if he could help. I explained that I needed two little bulbs but I couldn’t find them in the conglomeration of boxes and bulbs. I showed him the burned out one from my tree and he helped me look. He couldn’t find any either. He asked if I had more shopping to do. I told him no and that I had to pick up my daughter at her dance class at the church. His reply shocked me. “I have bulbs like this at home. I’ll meet you at the church with them.” Before I could protest that it would be too much trouble, he was gone.

Sure enough, when I arrived at the church to pick up my daughter he was there with a whole box of bulbs! He picked out what I needed and showed me how to insert the bulb into the plastic base. When I offered to pay him, he shook his head. I thanked him and asked for his name and address thinking I could send him a Christmas card or bring him some Christmas cookies because he had been so kind. He refused, winked at me and left.

I smiled as I watched him walk down the sidewalk toward the street. On the way home my children and I decided he didn’t offer an address because he didn’t have one. He was Santa Claus. So, I want to thank you, Santa, for making my day just a little bit easier. Not everything was perfect, but my Christmas tree looked beautiful with all of its lights. And no matter who that kind gentleman was, I do believe there is a Santa, even if only in our hearts.

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