December 1st. Forrest asked me today "Is he still alive?" when I put up the St Nicholas on the top of the tree. You do know what he is asking don't you? I think even Jewish kids eventually ask it. You can't escape it.
"Well, he was alive a long time ago. He used to put money in shoes." This was a clever distraction.
This is the Sufi Santa story. There once was family with three lovely grown daughters and very poor but loving, kind parents. "We have no dowry for our eldest daughter!" cried the father one day. A wealthy village elder named Nickolos heard the woeful parents through the open window as he strolled through the cobblestone walkways. He secretly came back after nightfall and left a wad of dinar in a pair of shoes outside the door. The daughter was happily betrothed. A few years later ol' Nick heard the same complaint from the father and anonymously provided for the next daughter, and then the next. Of course there were spies everywhere and the old man pleaded with them to keep his secrets. He wished not to be acknowledged or known for his kind deeds. Some time later the Catholics got a hold of the story and canonized the guy. Somehow my family made him a Norwegian, and the North Pole rumor started after WWII. And the Jesus part of living forever was stirred in there and viola!
"Oh- cool!" Forrest said when I finished the story, then added just in case I was planning something similar, "I like money and presents."
So...is he still alive? If you know, I'd appreciate a heads up. If he is not, please don't tell Forrest.
24 days to go. I haven't figured it out yet.
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