Mall Pizza, Ice Cream & Santa

I went up in the attic this morning. It was time to get the Christmas tree and decorations down. The simple climb up the ladder might be an easy trip for some, but not for me over the last few years. It's a hard climb… not physically, but emotionally. Over the last many Christmas', I've lost both parents and a best friend. Our oldest has moved to North Carolina. It's honestly hard to face the attic of memories.

Inevitably, in one of those dust-covered plastic storage boxes of Christmas stuff, I will find one picture. My oldest son, David's, first Santa picture. Memories of that night flood back.

When David was three, he and I would make our way to the mall one night a week to give mom a break. The routine was the same — mall pizza, followed by the Apple Store, the play area, and then ice cream.

As David and I would make our way through the mall on November nights, he would be drawn to the Christmas tree as any three-year-old would, mouth open, with a sense of awe and wonder. Inevitably, we would find ourselves in line to see Santa, something he had never done up to this point.

Slowly the line would move as each child got their chance for a picture with Santa. David would lean in and watch the exchange that was going on.

After a long wait, once we would get a few spots from the front of the line, David would look up at me and say, "No thank you, Daddy. No thank you." He was just not ready, and that was okay. I was not going to force a Santa visit on my son. It would have to be his choice.

This scenario played out the same way multiple times. David would be drawn in by tree, we found our place in line, and then once close to the front, he would tell me, "No thank you, Daddy." Each time I would explain to David that was it fine not to see Santa and that we would go get ice cream and hit the Apple Store (almost as magical as the North Pole) instead.

Later that same evening, at home, we started the tradition of reading "The Night Before Christmas" every night before David went to bed and before every afternoon nap. After a week, Michele and I had it memorized as we would patiently answer a curious little boy's questions about Santa.

One particular night in late December at the mall was different, though. Oh, it started out the same. The tree would draw us in, and then hand in hand, we would find ourselves in line. This time, however, as we got closer to the front, David leaned in and closely observed a boy and girl on Santa's lap laughing and talking. David looked at me with wide, innocent eyes and proclaimed, "He's a very nice man." I knelt down and gently told him, "Oh, you don't know the half of it."

Our moment finally came as we finally made it to the front of the line, and we were next. David had a decision to make. We could walk away and get pizza, or he could meet Santa. He looked up at me and then to Santa... the moment of truth.

He ran to Santa and jumped up into his lap. Santa gave him a big hug and tickled him under the chin. David laughed and then proceeded to ask Santa for a striped ball and a fire truck. Having read 'The Night Before Christmas" every night for the past month at bedtime, David had seen Santa bring these toys to the little boy in the pages of the book. (He must have figured Santa had these toys readily in stock.) Hugs were exchanged, and a picture was taken while Santa said he would do the best he could. David jumped down and waved goodbye.

Tears in my eyes, proud of my son's first encounter with Santa, I proceeded to the checkout to order the most expensive picture package to commemorate this occasion. I chose the one with two 8x10's, one 5x7, 24 wallets, a tote bag, a mouse pad, a coffee mug, a quilt, a 3-D hologram, and an ice sculpture. He's 22 now, as I write this, and I'm still making payments on that purchase.

As we were leaving, David's hand in mine, I looked down at him and asked him what he thought. He simply replied, "I love him very much."

I will never forget those special trips to the mall. But as I look back on them today, I realize David's journey to Santa is not unlike many of our journeys to Jesus.

Perhaps there are people in your life that have taken you by the hand and led you to Jesus. Your initial response may have been similar to David's response to Santa. "No thank you." I'm fine right where I am. Let's just move on to something else.

Not deterred by this, they kept telling you the story over time and patiently and gently answered your questions, not unlike how we patiently read "The Night Before Christmas" to David and answered his questions. Perhaps you even gave the response, "He's a very nice man," to which they wanted to reply, "Oh, you don't know the half of it."

Hopefully, one day came, though, that was hoped and prayed for by our family and friends... that we let go of their hand and ran to Jesus. That day we may have said for the very first time, "I love him very much."

Do you remember the first time you said that about Jesus? Is there someone special who helped lead you there? Maybe this year it's time to repay the favor. Maybe there is a friend, co-worker, or family member that it's time someone took an interest in and took them by the hand.

Just like someone did for you, take them to Jesus. Be patient. Love them regardless of response.

"Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God." John 1:21

And if, by chance, you do one day get to hear them say of Jesus, "I love Him very much," for the first time, celebrate. Stop by the mall for pizza and ice cream. And get the most expensive picture package.