The Ballad of Stan N. Scola II

Well, here it is one month to the day before Christmas. Wanted to share a Christmas gift with all of you. As I approach Christmas, my favorite part is remembering Jesus' birth. My favorite hymn... The Little Drummer Boy. My wife gets a chuckle whenever I hear the Bob Seger version on the radio. I'm not a drummer, but I often feel the poems/songs I write are my drumbeats that I play for the newborn baby.
The elephant in the room for me at Christmas is often Santa Claus. I am never really certain how helpful this tradition has become, especially in our culture. Anyway, I decided I can't really do much about what St. Nicholas has become good or bad. However, I decided the best thing I can do is put my two cents worth out there about the whole thing.

The Ballad of Stan N. Scola II

The first thing I noticed were boots of black
He propped them up while he ate a snack
In the office of a local mall
He relaxed before his post-lunch call

As I stood with my note pad and studied his face
My thoughts turned to what brought me here to this place…

“There’s some guy at the mall who has been Santa fifty years.
We need a picture and a quote, filled up with Christmas cheer.”
With that my boss showed me the door and sent me on my way
I wasn’t happy, “Santa Claus??” but I had dues to pay.

“Stan N. Scola the Second’s my name, he arose
I suppose that you’re looking for me”
He reached out his hands and he warmly grasped mine
With an openness friendly and free.
He gave me a wink and he bade me sit down
Then offered hot cocoa to drink.
“Just water is fine”, I replied as he smiled
And carried a glass to the sink.

With the holiday crowds waiting outside the door
I knew this dialogue must be quick
So I opened my pen without any ado
And began interviewing Saint Nick.

I pulled out question one, “How long have you been Santa Claus?”
He smiled and took my question in, then after a brief pause,

“I’ve been cast in my favorite role for 50 years this year
I’ve acted at some other malls, but mostly I’ve been here”

I jotted down his answer, took a sip of H2O;
Then once again sought what my readers want or ought to know.
“You say this is your favorite role to play, “Please tell me why.”
He chuckled out a Ho! Ho! Ho! Then started his reply:

“I wondered if you’d catch that line. Your ears must be tuned well.
It’s ‘cause I love the challenge in the tale I have to tell.
You’re confused at what that tale might be. I see it in your face.
I’ll try to clarify this, so your bafflement is chased.

“As a child, I learned of Christmas from a very early age
Of the baby in a manger’s first appearance on this stage. My family sang the carols, acted in the Christmas shows
And worshipped Christmas Eve within a candle-lighted glow.

“But my December memories are strongest of the days
When Dad would don the outfit and perform a Santa Play.

“My Dad, as Santa, told us of the man that he had been
One Nicholas of Myra who lived ‘round the year 310.
He gave up all his money and his days to help the poor
And often brought the things they needed right up to their door.

“ ‘It was my aim each day I walked to give myself away
For I knew Jesus gave himself for me,’ my dad would say.
‘I hope that all my deeds point to our Father who is true
And that my life reminds you that the Savior loves you too.’

Each Christmas upon Christmas, Dad would share with us this tale
And Santa pointed to the cross of Jesus without fail.

“His monologue completed, Dad would stay where we could see,
Then took his costume off and sipped some cocoa by our tree.”

His ending left me with some lines to catch up with my pen.
He sat there fully costumed with a most-contented grin.
Once I was finished writing, He refilled my water cup
Then frowned a bit, “I’m sorry, but it seems my time is up”

I thanked him for the interview. He walked back to his chair.
I took some pictures of him sitting with the children there.

I headed for the exit, but an elf called out my name.
She said, “This is from Santa”. She gave me a candy cane.
“He gives a cane like this to every child that he sees here.
And this handwritten note attached, each child, every year.”

I stashed the candy in my coat
And headed back to write
My story to complete
I’d start my holiday tonight.

I wrote it, and I filed it with ample time to spare
It surely wasn’t my best work, but it was well past fair.
I shut down my computer, “Merry Christmased”, waved goodnight.
Then headed to the airport, for my home-bound red-eye flight.

Before I drifted off to sleep, the plane far off the ground,
I tossed and turned and from my coat, I heard a rustling sound.

I sucked upon his candy cane while sleep approached my head
My eyes lit on the note he’d writ and this is what it said,

“In the spirit of Nicholas, I give this to you.
For he gave in the Spirit of Christ.
I pray that this gift points your heart to the cross,
Where the Lord, paid the ultimate price.”