Playing Santa again is a dream come true

Next to losing my mother, the biggest hurt from my past three years with leukemia came each Christmastime.

It was then I could not play Santa Claus to children across Middle Tennessee, but especially one group of young innocents -- multiples of twins and triplets.

I played Santa four straight years for that group. And I had the best time. Children are a joy unto God, and to even men with fake beards. They also were most especially precious to me, because I do not have my own children. So Christmas was always empty, except when I could be amid the laughter and wishes of these youngsters who still believed Santa hung the Moon, and I could pretend they were my own.

So today was a day of resurrection for me. Yes, I know -- wrong season. But I got to play Santa again for the first time in four years. And so the tears of the past Yuletides have now been wiped cleaned.

I wish words could describe how special it is to play the greatest figure in the world. But they can't. Christmas is a feeling. And with children, it is source of such innocence and wonder that so many of we adults lose so quickly and refuse to accept again.

As Santa, you sit there and listen, and they give you their fresh perspective on life. It is invigorating. It is as if you are young again, awaiting what will be under the tree early Christmas morning.

So the above pictures are really no justice to show the joy I felt today. And the hugs of the children have begun the healing of a lot of wounds from the past three years. Momma would be proud.