We went to see Santa tonight.  He was, as always, magnificent.  The fur on his suit was as white and perfectly groomed as the beard on his chin.  The quintessential twinkle in his eyes.  His gentle demeanor.  His unstrained smile.  The children were a mixture of excitement, nerves, and “get me out of these itchy clothes before I get medieval on you with this candy cane!”

When it came our turn, I walked up with Callum.  I had brought Lachlan’s precious bun bun with us.  He goes most places with us. We showed Santa a picture of Lachlan and told him that he recently passed away.  We told Santa that he held Lachlan last year, and asked if he could hold his beloved bun bun this year.  Santa took him gently and held him with his hand on bun bun’s shoulder; as he would have done if Lachlan had been sitting there.   He fully understood that this was not simply a stuffed animal.  Then he patiently sat and listened to every word Callum spoke.

When they were finished, Santa gently placed bun bun back in my arms.  He then reached up with two perfectly white gloved hands and wiped tears from his face.  He looked me in the eyes and, with the compassion of the universe in his voice, said, “Merry Christmas.”