WespotLedgerandMilesin the first aisle of vendors, so we go down another and pretend to look at treats, handmade crafts, and gifts while surreptitiously keeping an eye out for a child in need of a gift.
Aswe go from booth to booth, several people say “Hi” toHammyand are happy to see him.Itdoesn’t surprise me—he’s a friendly guy.What’sstill surprising me, though, is how theLancastersreacted to seeingHammy.They’rethe people who know him best.AndifIunderstand correctly, he works withmost of them daily.Whydid they act like they didn’t recognize him?
Myskepticism aside,Ilove being here withHammy.Welook atChristmasitems for sale, try onSantahats, sample peppermint bark and spiced nuts, and debate whichChristmassong is the best.Afterabout ten minutes,Iask, “Didyou spot any kids we should choose?”
Hammyis looking at a snow globe with a small town scene.Henods toward a high-energy boy with tousled hair who’s about six and is currently turning the cranks on a mechanicalSantadisplay, trying to understand how it works. “Themini mechanic over there, or the budding artist across the aisle and two booths back.Whatabout you?”
Iturn to see the same little girlI’dnoticed.She’sprobably seven, is quiet and observant, drawn to anything creative, and gazes at art half mesmerized, half longing. “Inoticed the same two, actually.”
Hammysmiles. “Whodo you think we should pick?”
Ilook at both kids again while pretending to admire a carved wooden reindeer. “Thegirl’s pants are too short, her shoes are worn, and her coat’s too big.Iknow what it’s like to have a budget that won’t stretch far enough for anything that isn’t an absolute necessity.”
“Anddid you see the way she carefully touched the display of markers in that art supply booth?”Hammyshakes his head. “Icouldn’t hear as she told her mom about them, butIsaw the mom’s lips.Shesaid they were too expensive, but she can tellSantaabout them before they leave.”
“Wehave to get them for her,”Isay.
Hammygives me the sweetest look.Likehe adores me.Idon’t remember the last time a man looked at me in adoration. “Let’sdo it.”
Wehurry to the art supply booth and buy the markers, a sketch pad with big sheets of paper, sketching pencils and erasers, some colored pencils, a set of watercolor paints and paint brushes, some glitter gel pens, and an art supply case.
Thenwe take it to a gift wrapping station and choose someChristmaspaper with paint splatters.Asthe woman in the booth wraps the present, we spot the girl standing by her mom, watching a man carve a five-foot-tall chunk of ice with a chainsaw, turning it into a nutcracker soldier.
Ilook atHammy. “Whatif we do a scavenger hunt as a way to give the girl her gift?Sinceshe’s going to seeSantaat the end, we can have him tell her that he’s got a present for her and give her the first clue.”
“That’sperfect!”
Weare grinning at each other like we’re a couple of kids.Webuy four cards from the present wrapping station that have the same splattered paint theme, and then we work on a plan.
WorkingwithHammyis a pretty amazing thing.Weworked together when putting up the lights, tubing down the hill, and tonight, beingSecretSantas.Iremember this feeling—Ifelt it withBrycewhen we first got married, then never again.I’dforgotten how incredible it is to work toward the same goals with someone.Icould easily become addicted to the feeling.Andaddicted to spending time withHammy.Andfeeling thingsIhaven’t felt in a gazillion years.
Wespot the girl inSanta’sWorkshopcreating a snowflake by gluing wooden craft sticks together.Mostof the kids finish making one within a few minutes.Thisgirl, though, keeps making hers more and more elaborate.
Asshe works, we sit at a table at the end of the shop and write clues on the cards.Wedecide to have the oneSantais going to hand her lead her to the elf working right here in the workshop.Theone the elf hands her will take her to the stage, where thehigh school jazz band is playing, and right up to the saxophone player near the edge.He’llgive her a card that leads her to the final place—the station where the city is handing out hot cocoa.
“Ava,” the girl’s mom says, “if you want to seeSanta, you need to finish up within one minute.”
“Ava!”Hammywhispers.Iwrite her name on the cards and on the present.Wehand one to the elf and then hurry over toSanta.Assoon as the kid on his lap hops down, we slip in, hand him the card, point out the girl who is just coming out of the workshop, and ask if he’ll give her the card before she leaves.
Thenwe get a good distance away to watch.Thelittle girl,Ava, sits onSanta’slap, shows him the snowflake she made, and then talks animatedly.She’sbeen rather reserved up to this point, andIlove the excitement on her face as she tells him about the markers.
Theband is nearing the end ofDecktheHalls, so the second we seeSantahand the girl the card, we run to the stage.Weask the saxophone player to give the card to a little girl namedAvawho comes up to him.Thenwe head to the hot cocoa station and hand them the gift with instructions to tell the girl it’s fromSanta.
Weget hot cocoa ourselves and stand under a tree with the perfect view and wait, sipping our cocoa.Forthe first time,Inotice that the night has gotten cold enough that we can see our breath.Butthere’s a thrill running through me, soIdon’t care about the temperature.
Plus,Hammyis next to me, seeming every bit as elated asIam.Beforelong, we spotAva, holding her snowflake in one hand and our cards in the other, her mom at her side.Shewalks up to the booth and says, “Hi,I’mAva.Thiscard told me to come here.Doyou have something for me?”
Theyhand her the present and tell her it’s fromSanta.Thelittle girl hugs it to her chest.Hammyslides his hand into mine, and we watch the girl’s face fill with wonder.
“Areyou going to open it?” her mom asks.
Avashakes her head. “It’sfromSanta.Itneeds to go under the tree forChristmasmorning.”
Ava’smom looks around like she’s trying to find who to thank.Shehas tears in her eyes.Asa mom,Iknow the feeling of overwhelming gratitude that overcomes you when someone does something for your child that you couldn’t do for them yourself.Itmakes me tear up a little, too.
Iglance atHammy.He’sjust as affected by the scene asIam.Idefinitely have some nagging worries aboutHammy.ButI’vealso got a great deal of respect for a man who’ll get this choked up at a chance to provideChristmasfor a little girl.
Ilean my head againstHammy, and he lets go of my hand so he can put his arm around my shoulders while we spend the last few minutes before we meet up with the others to just take in the magic.
