My children color intently on the paper menus as I sip my coffee. My eyes lift and look around the restaurant. That’s when I see him. His white beard, suspenders, plaid shirt and glasses set him apart from the crowd. Our eyes meet and he smiles. I blush and look at my kids who are still unaware.
“Guys, don’t look now but I think that man over there looks like someone we might know,” I whisper slowly and nod my head.
“What? Who!” My 6 year old son says and looks around frantically ignoring my plea to “stay cool”.
“Mom! I don’t know, is it him?!” He attempts to whisper in response.
“I don’t know, it sure looks like him to me!” I whisper excitedly. My children eat their breakfast keeping their eye on the man in the corner between mouthfuls of pancake.
The man finishes his meal and walks by our table and stops.
“Hi kids! I hope you’ve been good this year!” he says with a chuckle and a grin.
Their eyes freeze on him.
He reaches into his deep coat pocket and says, “I hope this is okay but this is for your daughter and this is for your son.” The man hands me a small wooden doll and a small handmade wooden fire truck.
My eyes well with tears. “Oh wow. Thank you!”
My children's eyes grow wide and they smile but are speechless. My eyes follow the man as he leaves the restaurant on this random March day. He climbs into a red pick-up truck with a license plate that reads “S Claus” and drives away.
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Andrea has a book you should check out: Embracing What Remains