Christmas Loaves And Fishes

by Raynier Maharaj

On Christmas Eve, in homes everywhere, there is quiet excitement. Festive feelings and the warmth this holiday brings reminds me of a Christmas tale I love to relate each year. It is a true story, even though it might sound unbelievable. And it gives proof that miracles do happen.

A long time ago there was a group of young people who decided to spread some Christmas cheer. They had discovered that there were several children who would be spending Christmas in a community hospital near by. So they bought nice presents, wrapped them, and armed with guitars, sweet voices and one of the friends dressed as Santa Claus, dropped in at the hospital unexpectedly.

The children were overjoyed at seeing Santa, and by the time the group was handing out presents and singing Christmas Carols, there were tears everyone’s eyes. From then on, it was decided they would play Santa every year.

The next year, the ladies at the hospital were included in their rounds, and by the third year it was expanded to embrace some poor children. In the fourth year, however, after all the rounds were made, Santa looked into his bag to discover there were still a few extra toys left. So the friends mulled it over, trying to figure out what to do. Somebody mentioned a few squatters’ shacks nearby in which a couple of desperate poor families lived.

So the group decided to go there, thinking there were perhaps three families at most. But as they drove over the crest of the hill into this lonely area (it was around midnight now) the shocked group saw a large number standing at the side of the street.

There were children, more than thirty of them. Behind them were not three shacks, but rows and rows of them. As the car drew to a stop, the children came running out, shouting with joy. It turned out they had been waiting patiently all night for Santa Clause. Somebody that no one could remember had told them he was coming, although our Santa had decided to go there moments before.

Everyone was stunned, except for Santa. He was in a panic. He knew he didn’t have enough toys for all the children. Not wanting to disappoint the children, he decided to give whatever toys he had to the smallest. When the presents ran out, he’d just have to explain to the bigger kids what happened.

So moments later, he found himself perched on top of the car’s hood. These thirty or more sparkling, clean children, dressed in their best clothes, lined up in order according to height, with the smallest firs, were waiting for their moment with him. As each anxious child approached, Santa dipped into his bag, his heart heavy with dread, hoping to find at least one more toy. And, by some miracle, he found a toy each time he dipped into the bag. And as the last of the children received their presents, Santa looked into his deflated bag, it was toyless. It was empty - empty as it should have been 24 children ago.

With relief, he let out a hearty HO-HO-HO and bade the kids farewell. But as he was about to enter the car, (the reindeer apparently had the day off) he heard a child scream, “Santa, Santa, Wait!!” And out of the bushes rushed two little children, a boy and a girl. They had been asleep. Santa’s heart sank. This time he knew for sure he had no more toys. The bag was empty. But as the breathless kids approached, he summoned up some courage and dipped into the bag once more. And, lo and behold, there were two more presents in there.

The group of friends, now all grown adults, still talk about this miracle on Christmas morning. They still have no explanation for it, other than it happened. How do I know so much about this? Well I was the one playing Santa.