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þÿChristian and the Santa Claus Bums

Steve Slavin

    Christian is a five-year-old boy who lives on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. He has only one problem. Christian is sometimes a little too smart for his own good.
    One winter morning Christian was on his way to kindergarten with his mother. They passed a building with a big window. Inside Christian saw 20 or 30 men dressed as Santa Clauses. They were all eating breakfast.
    “Mommy! Mommy! Why do they have all those Santa Clauses?”
    Christian’s mother was just as surprised as he was. Why indeed did they have all those Santa Clauses?
    “I guess they’re all having their breakfast,” was all she could reply.
    “That’s no answer!” said Christian. “I asked you why they have all those Santa Clauses. I thought there was only one Santa Claus.”
    “You’re right, Christian. There is only one Santa Claus.”
    “Well who are those guys in there eating breakfast?”
    “I don’t know who they are, Christian, but I can tell you one thing. None of them is Santa Claus.”
    That answer seemed to satisfy Christian for a few minutes, but when he got to school, he told his friends what he had seen.
    “I know who those men are,” said Adam.
    “Who are they?” everyone wanted to know.
    “They’re bums!” shouted Adams. “That’s who they are!”
    “Bums?” everyone asked. “Bums? Then why are they dressed up like Santa Claus?”
    “No one had an answer for that one. When Christian’s father picked him up from school that evening, Christian told him about the Santa Claus bums.
    “Christian, don’t call them the Santa Claus bums.”
    “Why not?”
    “Well, it isn’t nice to call someone a bum.”
    “If it isn’t nice, daddy, then how come you do it?”
    “Well, the guys I call bums are real bums. Remember that guy who tried to clean our windshield yesterday? He was a bum.”
    “That’s no answer!” said Christian. “If it’s not nice to call one person a bum, then why is it O.K. to call another person a bum?”
    “Christian, when you are older, then you will understand things better. But right now I don’t want to hear you call anyone a Santa Clause bum. All right?”
    Christian knew he’d better pretend to agree with his father, so he didn’t say anything. He just nodded “yes”.
    His parents had pretty much forgotten about the Santa Claus bums, when, just one week later, Christian and his mother were on their way to kindergarten. Well, can you guess what they saw? That’s right! There were about 20 Santa Clauses walking across the street, and then getting on a bus.
    Christian began to shout. He forgot his mother was standing right next to him. He forgot what his father had told him.
    “Those guys aren’t Santa Clauses! They’re bums! They’re just dressed like Santa Clauses. Those are fake beards. They have pillows under their coats. Those guys are Santa Claus bums!”
    Christian’s mother was shocked, but most people passing by stopped and laughed. One man knelt down to talk to Christian. He was wearing a business suit under his coat. He told Christian, “You’re right, son. Those men are bums. I want to thank you. You’ve made my day.” Then he shook Christian’s hand, stood up and walked away.
    “Christian! How could you say such an awful thing?” asked his mother.
    Christian was confused. Nearly everyone had laughed. The man had told him he was right and even thanked him. But now his mommy was mad at him. And he had a feeling that when his daddy heard about this, he would be madder than his mommy.
    Now remember that Christian is a very smart little boy. Christian thought to himself—“Hmmmmm. Mommy’s mad. She’ll talk to daddy. So I better do what they told the president to do when he did something bad and everybody yelled at him. I think they called it ‘damage control,’ whatever that means.”
    “Mommy,” Christian said, “I’m sorry I called those men bums.”
    His mommy just looked at him.
    “Hmmmmm,” Christian thought. “She’s not going for that excuse.” “Mommy, why do those men dress up like Santa Clauses?”
    “That’s a good question, Christian. Those men in Santa Claus suits go all over the city to raise money for poor people.”
    “Really? But aren’t they poor?”
    “Well, yes, Christian. I think some of the money they raise goes to help them as well.”
    When he got to school, Christian told all his friends what happened. Everybody laughed and laughed when he yelled again and again: “Those guys aren’t Santa Clauses! They’re bums!”
    His teacher overheard Christian and felt very bad. Mrs. Grady had lived in the neighborhood for many years and she had seen the men dressed like Santa Clauses every year during the weeks just before Christmas. They always made her sad because she knew they were really poor men who dressed up like the real Santa Claus, and stood outside on the streets all day ringing bells, and saying “Ho, ho, ho, merry Christmas,” over and over again, asking passersby to give money to the less fortunate.
    Mrs. Grady knew it couldn’t be very pleasant work and she often wondered what these men did the rest of the year, where they lived, and if they had families. She also knew that Christian and his friends didn’t mean to be cruel. Children are basically very honest, and they were just telling each other what their parents and other adults said to themselves—that these were not real Santa Clauses, but only poor men, or as Christian called them, “bums,” dressed up as Santa Clauses.
    So Mrs. Grady decided she would have a talk with all the children about the Santa Clauses. “Children! Children! Is everybody ready for a story?”
    Of course they were. Everyone stopped what they were doing and sat around Mrs. Grady. When everyone was settled, she began.
    “A long time ago there was a musician with a very funny name. His name was Offenbach. He had moved to a city that he loved very much, and he wrote a song about it. The first two lines went like this:
    ‘Winter has come to the city.
    The pavements are icy and cold.’
    “Offenbach wrote those words a long time ago. But they could describe what New York is like right now. The streets are so cold that no one is outside who doesn’t have to be. But on the Bowery there are still a lot of people who stay outside. Do you know who lives on the Bowery?”
    “Drunks!” “Drunken old men!” “Bums!” called out most of the children.
    “That’s right! They are very sick men. And very poor. And they are all out there in the cold. While everyone else is in their nice warm homes.”
    “Don’t they want to be out there? Someone said on television that they like to be out there,” said Beth.
    “Would you like to be out there, Beth?” asked Mrs. Grady
    “Nooooooooo!” answered Beth, hugging herself.
    “Would any of you like to be out there all day and all night in the rain and snow?”
    “Nooooooooo,” they all replied in a chorus.
    “Well then,” said Mrs. Grady, “I guess they don’t want to be out there either.”
    “Aren’t there places for them to go?” asked Ricky.
    “They call them ‘shelters,’” said Christian. “We used to live near one. There were drunks on our block all the time.”
    “That’s right,” said Mrs. Grady. “Ricky and Christian are both right. They can go to shelters. Have any of you ever been inside a shelter?”
    Nobody said anything. Most of them just shook their heads. They were waiting for Mrs. Grady to tell them what it looked like inside a shelter.
    “Well, to be truthful, I’ve never been inside a shelter myself. But from the pictures I’ve seen of them in the newspapers, I don’t think I’d ever want to sleep in one. They are usually in very large buildings, with row after row of beds all in one big room.”
    “Do any of the men snore?” asked Amy.
    The children started to giggle. “My daddy snores,” volunteered Ricky, “but then my mommy pinches his nose, so he stops.”
    Now everyone was giggling, even Mrs. Grady.
    “Well, I’ll bet,” she said, “that most of them snore. In fact I’ll bet they all snore so loud that you’d think the whole building would fall down!”
    Now everyone was laughing. Several of the little boys started to make snoring noises. This went on for a couple of minutes. As it began to die down, Mrs. Grady asked the children, “Now how many of you would like to sleep in a shelter?” Only Ricky raised his hand.
    “I don’t mind snoring, Mrs. Grady. I don’t think anyone could snore louder than my father.” A few of the children giggled at this.
    “Well, how do you think all those poor homeless men feel? They can’t go to the shelters because they can’t get any sleep. So they have to take their chances sleeping out on the street.”
    “But it’s so cold out there,” said Anthony. “Especially when it snows,” added Beth.
    “Why would anyone want to sleep in the snow?” asked Christian.
    “That’s a good question,” replied Mrs. Grady. “Why would anyone want to sleep in the snow?” she asked. “Unless he had to. Unless he didn’t have any place to go.”
    “I’m glad I don’t have to sleep in the snow,” said Jennifer.
    “Me too! Me too!” echoed the other children.
    “That’s right,” said Mrs. Grady. “None of us has to sleep outside in the snow. Do you know why we don’t have to?”
    “Because we have mommies and daddies,” said Adam.
    “And our own homes,” said Ricky.
    “I have my own room,” said Jennifer.
    “So do I!” echoed most of the other children.
    “I have to share my room with Kathy. She’s my sister,” whined Danielle.
    “Well,” said their teacher, “that is still a lot better than sleeping out in the snow, isn’t it Danielle?”
    “I guess so, Mrs. Grady.”
    “Well then, children, do you understand why these men have to sleep outside in the street, even when it snows?”
    They all nodded their heads.
    “Actually there are other things that are very bad in the shelters. Some of them are very dirty.”
    “Dirtier than the street?” asked Amy.
    “Yes Amy, even dirtier than the street. Now that’s pretty dirty, isn’t it?”
    Everyone agreed.
    “And some of the shelters are very unsafe. So a lot of the men are afraid to go there.”
    “Aren’t there ladies out on the street?” asked Christian.
    “Yeah,” said Adam. “They’re shopping bag ladies.”
    “There’s this lady who stays down the block from us,” added Jennifer. “Boy, does she stink!”
    This made everybody laugh. A few of the children held their noses. “Peee-you!” yelled Ricky.
    When they finally calmed down Mrs. Grady continued. “There are a lot of poor women who live on the street. And the reason they are called shopping bag ladies—”
    “I know! I know!” yelled Adam. “Because they keep all their stuff in shopping bags!”
    “That’s right, Adam,” replied their teacher. “These women keep all their things with them because they are afraid someone will steal them. Everything they have in the world is in those plastic bags.”
    “Why don’t they go to the shelter?” asked Amy. “Because of the snoring?”
    “Maybe the snoring bothers them, Amy, but I think it’s mainly because they’re afraid they’ll be robbed in the shelters.”
    “Why don’t they move someplace else?” asked Christian.
    “There isn’t any place they could afford. Remember that they are very poor. Do you know how expensive it is to live in New York?”
    “My daddy says it cost a thousand dollars to live in New York,” said Beth.
    “That’s cheap! A thousand dollars! You know what my mommy says? You can’t get a hole in the wall for a thousand dollars!” exclaimed Danielle.
    “Children—a thousand dollars is a lot of money. And none of these poor people has a thousand dollars. If they did, they wouldn’t be poor. Anyway, they don’t have enough money to live anywhere, except out on the street. So now you know why these people have to sleep out on the street even when it snows.”
    They all nodded their heads.
    “This makes me very sad,” said Jennifer in a very soft voice.
    “Me too!” said Ricky.
    “Me too! Me too!” said all the other children.
    Mrs. Grady waited until they all quieted down. When they finally did, she said, “Well, then, we all agree that it is very sad that these people have to sleep out on the street, even when it snows ... Now I want to tell you about some people who are trying to help all these homeless people. Would you like to hear about that?”
    “Yes, Mrs. Grady!” all the children exclaimed.
    “I’m going to ask Christian to help me. Christian, do you know the street where all the Santa Clauses live?”
    “Santa Clauses!” yelled Ricky. There is only one real Santa Claus. Everybody knows that!”
    “Children! Ricky has made an excellent point! There is indeed just one real Santa Claus. So let’s see if we can find out why all those other men are dressing up to look like the real Santa Claus.
    “Christian, do you know the name of that street where you saw all those men?”
    “It’s the wide street with the big church. Maybe three blocks from here. Not far. They have a whole big pile of those Santa Clauses—well they’re dressed up like Santa Clauses. I saw them eating breakfast.”
    “They’re bums! They’re Santa Claus bums!” some of the other children shouted.
    When they finally quieted down, she said to them: “I’m going to tell you something very sad. Are you ready?”
    It was so quiet you actually could hear a pin drop.
    “Those men who dress up like Santa Clauses are very poor. But they are not bums. Those men put on their Santa Claus costumes and they stand out on the street all day. Do you know what they do?”
    “They ring bells. Like this—ding-a-ling! Ding-a-ling!” said Anthony. “And they say, ‘Ho, ho, ho!’”
    “That’s right, Anthony. But why do they stand outside all day ringing their bells and saying ‘Ho, ho, ho?’”
    “I know! I know!” yelled Danielle. “They ask everyone for money.”
    “You’re absolutely right, Danielle! Now here is the hardest question of all. Is everybody ready?”
    Everybody was ready.
    “Very well, then. After they collect all that money, what do you think they do with it?”
    That was a very hard question. Even Adam, who had an answer for almost everything, could not think of one. He just shrugged his shoulders.
    “Do they take it home with them?” prompted Mrs. Grady.
    “I don’t think so,” answered Beth.
    “Good!” replied Mrs. Grady. “Now if they don’t take it home with them, where do they take all that money?”
    “I know! I know!” shouted Christian. They bring it to that building where they eat breakfast.”
    “That’s right! That’s where they bring it!”
    “But what do they do with it?” asked Amy.
    “Now that is a very good question. Doesn’t everyone think that’s a very good question?” All the children nodded “yes”. Well, what do you think they do with all the money?”
    Again, everyone just sat there trying to figure out the answer. Finally Jennifer blurted out: “They >give it away to poor people!”
    “That’s right! Jennifer’s right! They give away the money they collect to poor people.”
    “But those guys are poor!” objected Ricky.
    “They are,” said Mrs. Grady. “So they get to keep some of the money they collect.”
    “Why can’t they keep all of it?” asked Beth.
    “Because they are collecting to help a lot of poor people — especially the homeless people you see sleeping out in the street. It wouldn’t be fair for them to keep all the money for themselves.”
    ‘But if they are collecting so much money, how come there are still so many people out on the street?” asked Ricky.
    “Because, children, the men dressed as Santa Clauses can’t collect enough money to help all of the people out on the street. Do you know why?”
    “I know! I know!” yelled Amy. “It’s because people don’t give them enough money. Sometimes my father throws a quarter into the chimney.”
    “My mother throws in her change from her purse,” said Danielle.
    “I put a dime in once,” said Beth.
    “Well,” said Mrs. Grady, “It is good that you and your parents give money to those Santas to help the poor, but it isn’t enough to help everyone. There are hundreds and hundreds of people who have no place to live, and not enough to eat, and no warm clothes to wear.”
    The children grew very quiet and very sad. Finally Christian spoke up. “I think we should help them.”
    “Yes!” everyone agreed, “Let’s help them!”
    “Let’s be the Santa Claus’s helpers,” said Adam. “We can help them collect money!”
    “And we could dress up like Santa’s helpers,” added Amy.
    “My mommy can make me an outfit on her sewing machine,” said Danielle. “She made Dracula costumes on Halloween for me and my sister.”
    “It’ll be as much fun as Halloween!” exclaimed Christian. “Besides, I was sick on Halloween and I couldn’t go out trick-or-treating.”
    “This time,” said Mrs. Grady, “you’ll be collecting money for poor people.”
    “That’s better than getting money and candy and stuff for ourselves, isn’t it, Mrs. Grady?” asked Christian.
    “Yes, Christian, it certainly is!” she replied. “Now that you have decided to be Santa’s helpers, the next thing is to see that everyone gets their outfits to wear. That’s very important, you know. Those Santa Clauses you’ve seen have very good costumes, and if we’re going to be Santa’s helpers, we will need very good costumes indeed.”
    “My mommy will make my costume,” said Danielle.
    “And my mommy will make mine,” said Adam.
    “Here’s what we’ll do,” said Mrs. Grady. “I will give you each a letter to take home with you this afternoon. And in the letter I will ask your parents if they can make you a Santa’s helper costume. Or buy one for you. I even know the name of a couple of stores in the neighborhood that sell them.”
    “Mrs. Grady,” said Jennifer, “when everybody has a costume, will we go out and help Santa collect money?”
    “That’s right, Jennifer. With all of us helping Santa, we’ll be able to collect a lot of money to help all the poor people who have to sleep out on the street. O.K. now, I’m going to write that letter and you can all go back to playing.”
    A few days later, when everybody had a costume, Mrs. Grady explained to the children how they would work as Santa’s helpers. “Tomorrow afternoon we’ll all be going to help one of the Santas. The school has made all the arrangements. Right after lunch a bus will pick us up and take us to Park Ave. Does anyone know where Park Ave. is?”
    “Is that where Central Park is?” asked Beth.
    “It’s a parking lot!” exclaimed Christian.
    “How can you have a park and an avenue at the same place?” asked Ricky.
    “That’s were all the rich people live,” said Amy. She was very sure of this because her father had said this many times.
    “That’s right, Amy! A lot of very rich people live on Park Ave,” replied the teacher.
    “And they’re going to give us a lot of money,” said Anthony.
    “I hope so, Anthony. Now does everybody understand what we’re going to do tomorrow?”
    Everyone nodded. The children knew that tomorrow they would all be going to Park Ave. They would all be dressed as Santa’s helpers. And they would collect a lot of money from the rich people and give it to the poor homeless people.
    The next day right after lunch, a yellow bus pulled up in front of the school. The children all got on the bus. So did Mrs. Grady and two parents. They were the only ones who weren’t dressed as Santa’s helpers.
    It was a beautiful afternoon. The pale winter sun shined as the bus made its way uptown. Pretty soon they arrived at Park Ave. Everyone saw the man dressed as Santa Claus ringing his bell. But even though they knew he wasn’t a real Santa Claus, no one said anything. One by one, they went up to him and introduced themselves. He patted each one on the head, and said, “Ho, ho, ho! How are you today?” He even told them that he wasn’t really Santa Claus and that his name was Bill. He learned everyone’s name and could make funny faces.
    Mrs. Grady handed each child a little chimney and reminded everyone to say,
    “Please give to the homeless. Please help the homeless.”
    “And what do you say when they put money in your chimney?” she prompted.
    “Thank you!”
    “Very good,” replied the teacher. Now I want everybody to stay very close to Santa. All right, children?”
    “Yes, Mrs. Grady!” they shouted.
    Soon a whole crowd of passersby had gathered around Santa and his helpers. A very well dressed man knelt down and said to Ricky, “I haven’t seen any of Santa’s helpers around these parts. I’ve seen plenty of Santa Clauses, but never a Santa’s helper. How are you helping Santa?” he asked.
    “We’re collecting money to help the homeless.”
    “Are you homeless, young man?”
    “No!” Ricky laughed. “Not me! But I’m collecting money to help all the poor homeless people who live out on the street.”
    “In that case,” said the man straightening up and reaching into his pocket, “I’d like to contribute.” He took a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet and put it into Ricky’s chimney.
    Just then a red faced lady in a mink coat got out of a chauffeured limousine. “Wait right here, James.” Then she saw the Santa Claus and all the children. “What’s all this?” she asked.
    “We’re Santa’s helpers,” Jennifer replied. “We’re giving the money we collect to the homeless.”
    “What a good idea! “Here’s a nice shiny new penny. And with that she went over to each of the children and put a penny in each of their chimneys.
    Jennifer made a face behind the woman’s back and so did some of the other children. They knew that a penny wasn’t very much to give. But their teacher saw what was going on, and she asked all of the children to gather around her. She wanted to talk to them.
    “Now children, we have to remember why we are here.”
    “To collect money for the homeless!” said Adam.
    “That’s right, Adam. Now we’re here to collect money. Even if it’s a penny. Every little bit helps.”
    “But she could have given us more than a penny, Mrs. Grady,” protested Jennifer.
    “Yeah,” added Danielle, “did you see her car? And that soldier she had with her?”
    “That man isn’t a soldier, Danielle. He’s her driver. And I agree with Jennifer that she could have given more than a penny. But if we make faces at the people who give us only a penny, then other people will see this, and they may not give anything at all. O.K.?”
    Everybody said “O.K.”
    “Good!” said Mrs. Grady, “Now children, let’s collect some more money for the poor homeless people.”
    For the next hour the children collected money from the passersby. When they were finished, they emptied out their chimneys into Santa’s big chimney.
    “All of you have been a very big help,” Bill said. Then he said “Ho, ho, ho—have a merry Christmas! ... Oh, I almost forgot!” And he gave each of the children a piece of candy.
    All the way back downtown to the school, the children chattered excitedly about what they had done. Everyone remembered the woman who gave them the pennies. But most of all, they talked about the poor homeless people who would have to spend Christmas out on the street.
    When they got back to the school they took off their Santa’s helpers outfits. They would be using them the next day and the day after that. Mrs. Grady had made arrangements for them to help a different Santa every day for the rest of the week.
    Soon it was the day before Christmas, a very cold afternoon. The weather report said it might snow. But the children were very sad. Even though they would all be getting toys and other presents, they knew that there would be poor people out on the street tonight with no place to go.
    When their teacher said that the bus was waiting for them, they all picked up their little chimneys and went outside. Today they would stand in front of Macy’s — the largest store in the world.
    Mrs. Grady understood why the children were so sad. On the day before Christmas, children are usually very happy. But she knew that they were thinking about all the poor homeless people, and that this afternoon would be the last time they would be helping Santa.
    The whole city seemed like one big traffic jam. Many people were doing last minute shopping. Others were trying to get home early. Everyone was trying to get someplace else and was in a big hurry.
    The children introduced themselves to the Santa Claus. His name was Charlie. “Pull my beard,” he told Christian, “but not too hard.” Christian pulled it.
    “It’s real! It’s real!” he squealed. Now all the others rushed up to Charlie and pulled his beard. It was real all right. They were so busy pulling Santa’s beard, no one noticed that a television camera crew had set up and was taping all the Santa’s helpers pulling Santa’s beard. Of course Mrs. Grady noticed and she told the reporter who was with the camera crew that the children were helping Santa collect money for poor homeless people.
    “This would make a wonderful human interest story! Would it be all right if I interviewed the children?”
    “Are you kidding?” asked the teacher. “I’m sure the children would be delighted! Let’s tell them!”
    “Children!” she shouted. “This is Mary Beth, a television reporter. And guess what! She would like to interview you.”
    “Will we be on the six o’clock news?” asked Christian.
    “Well,” said the reporter. “I certainly hope so. I can’t give you any guarantees, young man, but I will try to get all of you on the six o’clock news. Now I want each of you to tell me your name and what you’re doing here today right in front of Macy’s.”
    “My name is Christian, and I’m helping Santa Claus collect money to help poor people.”
    “And my name is Beth. I hope that all the poor people have some place warm to stay tonight.”
    Mary Beth told them that they were doing a great job, and then she asked Amy if she had anything to add.
    “My name is Amy, and I think that everyone who has money should give some of it to help poor homeless people.”
    The interviews continued until each child had been introduced and had told the reporter something about helping the poor. The camera crew continued taping as the children went back to work collecting money. After about half an hour Mary Beth asked the crew to pack up. Then she told the children that they had to rush back to the studio. “I can’t make any promises,” she said, “but all of you might be on TV tonight. At least you will be if I have anything to say about it.”
    The mood on the bus ride downtown was a lot better than it had been just a couple of hours earlier. It had even started snowing, so there it would be a white Christmas after all.
    When their parents came to pick them up, the children excitedly told them they were going to be on the six o’clock news. All the way home Christian told his mommy about that afternoon, the reporter, the TV cameras, and he tried to remember what he had said to the reporter. “Anyway,” he concluded, “we’ll be able to see it in a few minutes.”
    Christian’s daddy came home just before six o’clock, and they put on the TV. They watched and watched, but there was nothing about the children, nothing about Macy’s, and nothing about Santa Claus except for an advertisement with a guy dressed like a Santa Claus screaming about a store named “Crazy Eddie’s.” Just before the news ended, one of the reporters announced that there would be a special program about Christmas at eight o’clock that everyone should watch.
    “Maybe we’ll be on that program.” said Christian. He didn’t really believe this. He just didn’t want to give up hope.
    Christian’s parents said he could stay up since it was the night before Christmas. So they sat down to have supper, but this time Christian didn’t want to talk about what had happened outside Macy’s.
    At eight o’clock they turned on the TV. The announcer said that instead of the regular program, they were going to show a special Christmas program. It would be about poor people and how they would spend their Christmas.
    The first scene in the program was their own neighborhood, then the Bowery, a shot of some shopping bag ladies, a men’s shelter, and then 20 or 30 Santa Clauses walking across a street. Christian almost blurted out, “Look!” Luckily, he caught himself just before he added, “the Santa Claus bums!”
    Then the announcer came on again. “There are estimates that over 50,000 New Yorkers are homeless, and many of them will have to spend their Christmas out on the street. And while the snow continues to pile up, most of us are together this evening with our families inside our nice warm homes.
    “But there are thousands of people in this city with no homes to go to, and no families with whom to spend the holidays. This program is about these people, and it is also about those who are trying to help them. One group that is helping is composed of five-year-old children.”
    “That’s us!” shouted Christian. “We’re going to be on television!”
    And sure enough, there they were! “Our camera crew found this scene in front of Macy’s this afternoon,” he continued. “Mary Beth Jorgensen had a chance to interview these five-year-olds, who have been working every afternoon as Santa’s helpers.
    First Christian went. Then Beth. Then Amy. And the next and the next and the next. Until everyone had been interviewed.
    “Mommy! Mommy! They did the whole class! Everybody! Even Ricky!”
    Christian had never seen himself on TV. After all, how many five-year-olds were even on a kiddie show? There were pictures of the whole group with their chimneys, of Charlie the Santa Claus, of Mrs. Grady watching over them, and then there were pictures of people putting money into their chimneys. There was even snow falling. He hadn’t noticed it was snowing until they were all back on the bus.
    “In place of commercial messages, there will be listings posted of the agencies that help poor and homeless New Yorkers and their contact information. Please help them help those in need.”
    After the first listing, the announcer was back again, and there were clips of homeless shelters and of people sleeping in cardboard cartons on the icy sidewalks. There were scenes of soup kitchens and food pantries, and of the lines of people waiting to get inside.
    Toward the end of the program, there was another clip of Santa and his helpers in front of Macy’s collecting donations from passersby. And then the announcer closed with these words: “What these children are doing is what all of us should be doing this holiday season. We should be helping those less fortunate than ourselves. After all, isn’t that what Christmas is all about?
    “So let me extend my thanks and those of Mary Beth Joregensen, her camera crew, and all the folks here at our station to Santa’s little helpers who worked so hard to make Christmas a lot better for the City’s poor people. And may you all have a merry Christmas and a happy new year!”
    Well we’re just about the end of our story. We’d like to say that as a result of that TV special and the efforts of Santa’s helpers, millions of dollars poured in to help the poor people of New York City. And who knows? Maybe next Christmas everybody in the City—even the poorest New Yorkers — will have a nice warm place to stay.

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