SANTA CLAUS LIVES AT MY HOUSE
SANTA CLAUS LIVES AT MY HOUSE By Karen A. LechGod works in mysterious ways, to us anyway. We think they are mysterious. God knows the plan all along and puts people and circumstances together, for His purposes, and if we respond, for His Honor and Glory.
It was with shocked surprise at my mother's wake that I saw a cousin of my mother's who I had not seen for nearly twenty years. He looked just like Santa Claus, and though family had told me that he was resembling Grizzly Adams more and more over the years when and if they would see him, my jaw just dropped when I finally recognized him. My mind jumped back to days when I was a very little girl, and the memory of him in his Sailor uniform, I could not have been more than 3-1/2 or 4. I thought then he was the most handsome man alive. I recalled his wedding, and how he looked like some man straight out of a magazine ad in his tuxedo. For nearly 25 years Ron had "hemitized" himself, keeping his distance from family and friends, though as a young man he was full of life, joking and had a smile that could melt the ice of a glacier. All the older girls in the family thought he was the epitome of a handsome young man and would coquettishly say If you weren't my cousin, I'd be after you!
Stooped, limping, now maybe 6 feet instead of 6 feet 3 as in his youth, the blue, blue eyes stared at me. I almost reverted to my Heidi imitation and shouted Grandfather! Grandfather! for he sure looked like that actor in the old Shirley Temple movie. "All grown up now, huh?" He said, as tears poured down his ruddy cheeks.
"You have NO idea how much my mother would have loved to see you!!!" I told him.
A wake is a busy time for a family. Friends and relatives, so many people offering condolences, asking what happened, etc. The faces become a blur, for when you lose someone so very close to you, you are living in what seems like a nightmare. Before he left that night, I told my mother's cousin, "Don't you EVER take yourself out of my life like this again!" He laughed and said, "See you tomorrow". I doubted I would.
Sure enough, at the church, there he was, sitting right behind me. I could hardly believe it; the "hermit" came out. When we were standing outside the church, and I watched my mother's casket being reverently wheeled into the hearse, I felt a tug at my sleeve. Ron asked if he could ride with myself and my son to the cemetery, as his truck was not in the best of shape. "Of course!" I answered and rearranged my daughter's transportation to be in my best girlfriend's car (a red PT Cruiser that I drool over, named Scarlet). Lynn took the girls, leaving plenty of room for Ron. (Think Santa Claus size).
My troubled mind and heart half way listened to him talking on the 22 mile ride to St. Adalbert's Cemetery in Niles, Illinois. My thoughts were too occupied with visions of my mother's suffering, with the beauty that came about when she was nearly at the gates of Heaven, thoughts of what a PRIVILEGE it was to take care of her, wash her hands and face, comb her hair, feed her, massage her feet. I felt I had lost my "baby". My arms felt empty. My heart felt hollowed out.
On the way home, Ron and I exchanged phone numbers, and I invited him over, never thinking about seeing him for a while really. At least not until he told me he was living in a trailer park, which closed down around mid October. He was rambling on about what he was going to do in the winter, and I caught a few phrases like last winter staying in some cheap hotel that had weekly rates. My mind drifted in my own sorrows but something whispered in my heart... in essence, he is telling you he is nearly homeless, you know, remember that time when there was NO ROOM AT THE INN? ..... Whatsoever you do for the least of My brethren..."
Before I knew I was even saying it, out came the words, "You can stay with me, Ron, I have plenty of room."
Today, just weeks before Christmas, I have "Santa Claus" living at my house...70 years old, getting crippled from arthritis, asthma, emphysema, status post stroke, and hermit (Did I ever tell you that hermits are very hurting people? and have bad habits? and have neglected themselves? and forgotten their purpose in life, and life's hurts can last a lifetime and ruin a life?). His belly does shake like a bowl full of jelly (285 pounds). He has no sleigh, just a beat-up old truck without a muffler.
Living with a person who has been living alone for quite awhile has its challenges, and before God, I humbly bow and confess that last week, I was not a good steward, a good servant. I was frustrated with his habits, the "control" of the television... everything. I was irritated, and to the point of being nasty, judgmental, complaining. I was tired of hearing his "know it all" attitude (what makes me think I know it all?), and even in my own prideful mind called him ignorant. I was NOT being merciful, forgiving, and selfishly prideful. I did not want to be kind. I was angry he seemed so unappreciative. His actions were leading me to distraction, like dealing with my sometimes difficult teenagers.
Sunday morning came along. I was up the night before very late, as our ponies got out and were running amok. It took til nearly 2 a.m. to capture the things and Sunday morning my mood was thunderous. I was thinking of making "horsenfeffer" for supper or at least calling Elmer's glue factory. I got up and sure enough, Mr. Know it all was up and says "Why are you up so early? Go back to bed and sleep for a few hours". I managed to reply in what I thought was a civil tone, "I can't! There is laundry to put away, church this morning, and right after church, I have to go to work". (I am also sometimes very resentful of having to work EVERY Sunday, so that burr was under the saddle of my attitude, too.) I felt like giving up before the day was even started. I figured, maybe I won't bother going to church, I do have to get groceries and my daughters needed to get new shoes and I sure won't feel like getting that stuff done after I get off work 9-10 p.m.
An inner voice said, Karen, remember how you try to set a good example? I was struggling with going or not, even thinking, oh yeah first Sunday of the month, it will be longer as we have communion service today.. . But I got dressed for church. I had heard Ron taking a shower upstairs, and my evil mind thought, Good! It's about time he got washed up.
When I got out of the bathroom, dressed and ready, grabbing up my purse and my Bible, Ron was sitting in the family room. I was just ready to head to the door to the garage and had to pass by the chair where he was sitting.
"Are you ready for church?" He asks.
Snotty me replied, "Yes, are YOU???? "(For all the weeks of inviting him he never would go, and I admit I did tease him about it). This morning I had not even bothered to extend the invitation to him come with.
A booming "YES" from him startled me.
"Fine, I'm pulling the car out" I said, thinking yea right, like he means it.
I pulled the car into the driveway from the garage, and lo and behold, there was Ron, ready to get in. Okay, I thought, what's up with this??
He piled in and we drove in near silence to the church. I felt God's presence, telling me to be still. And I WAS! I figured more from shock that he would really come with. The sermon this past Sunday was, as usual, just the food my soul needed to be fed with.
And God worked in His Mysterious ways....... Ron was saved that morning. He acknowledged he needed Jesus and accepted him as Savior of his life.
As I write this, tears start up again, like the times Ron bends his snow white head over his bowl of chili, or dinner plate, like a little boy relishing something mom made for him, and my eyes fill with tears. The times when I DO think, he is one of God's creatures, love him.
This Santa may not be as magical as some, and my house is no North Pole (even though it has been darn cold out), but my kids and I are sure learning the spirit of Christmas is to do as Christ commanded, to love one another, no matter what it takes. "For greater love hath no man, than HE who lays down his life for his friends." Jesus did that. He gave his life for us so we could live with him in His Father's most incredible home - Heaven! I praise God for the gift of this "Santa Claus", for he is teaching us in a very real way, humility, and the true meaning of Christmas, the LOVE sent from Heaven to live in our hearts, and to live as HE taught us... Love one another, not just with boxes wrapped in bright ribbons, not just with diamond rings and trinkets, but with the mercy and tenderness that God loves us with.
Praise God for his mysterious ways, and for forgiving this Miss Know It All.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Karen
About the Author
Hi! I am an award winning author from Richmond,Illinois. Now where is that? About 60 miles north, northwest of Chicago. I hope my words will touch in you in some way, or get a chuckle at least. God has given me a lot of words to say (write?) so I am on a mission. My first book was published August 2005 51 POEMS FOR CHILDREN. Write me at goodlittlewren@yahoo.com and thanks for reading!