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One of the best parts of Christmas, for me as a child, was the Christmas Play at church. It always fell on the last Sunday night before Christmas. Each Sunday School Class put on a play, including the Adult Class. Once the performances were complete we sang” Santa Claus is Coming to Town”, and to the delight of all the jolly old elf burst in the back door. He then proceeded to his place next to the Christmas tree, and with assistance from the men of the church handed out gifts. No child was left out, everyone got at least one gift with a bag of fruit, nuts and candy.

As I grew older, I asked my mother who played Santa each year. She told me the church hired someone as they were afraid the children would recognize someone from the church, and the magic would be broken.

I will always remember the Christmas I was twelve. As a late life child I have brothers thirteen, twelve and ten years older than me. That year my three year old niece Donna came with us for the celebration. She was added to the children’s play as an angel, I will forever remember the delight on her face as she sang and shook her angelic tambourine.

While the amateur actors were taking us deep inside their plays, I seemed to notice some commotion in the background.  I whispered to my mother and asked her if she knew what was going on. She told me our hired Santa had gotten sick at the last minute. The pastor was scrambling to find a replacement before the end of the show. She told me to pray for a miracle.

Finally the appointed time came. We all raised our voices and sang for Santa Claus to come to town. The back doors opened and in staggered Santa. His laughter echoed off the church walls and with it the strong, strong smell of alcohol. With the assistance of several men Santa was able to make his way to his place of honor next to the tree. His ruddy cheeks were not caused by a cold ride on this sleight that night.

Soon Santa was merrily and loudly singing carols as he handed out gifts to children young and old. We all soon got into the spirit, so to speak, of the night. His joyous nature and ready smile were contagious and the entire church could not stop laughing at his antics.

Once all the gifts were given out, Santa took his leave leaning heavily on the shoulders of the pastor. He stopped briefly at the door to wish us all a “Merry Christmas”.

Even though we asked and asked the pastor would never divulge the name of our drunken Santa. He just said that God answered our prayers, and gave us a wonderful Santa Claus.

And every year since at Christmas, I remember the drunken Santa. The prayer answered Santa, the miracle Santa, and the best Santa I have ever known.

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