Kevinâs Saint
By Michele Wallace Campanelli
âS ANTA FOR SPECIAL KIDS on tomorrowâs broadcast. See you then.â
The tag line caught my attention. I raised my head from my book and saw a picture of a waving Santa on the television screen as the news credits rolled by. My heart began to pound. Could this be the Santa Iâve been looking for?
I picked up the phone and called the station, âThat Santa tomorrow, can he communicate with deaf children?â I asked.
Over the rumble of the newsroom, I heard, âYes, heâs a retired schoolteacher who signs. He wonât release his name, but heâs scheduled to be at the Memphis city mall tomorrow. Weâll be picking up the story through our affiliate news station.â
âMemphis? You mean Tennessee, not in Florida?â
âYes. Can I help you with anything else?â
âNo, thank you.â I hung up, disappointed.
Just then Jessica came into the office. Her face changed seeing my expression. âWhatâs wrong?â
âYou know I love your son like a nephew, right?â
She smiled. âOf course. Youâre his favorite babysitter.â
âWell, Iâd like to take him to Tennessee tomorrow to the Memphis mall, where a Santa who knows sign language is scheduled to appear.â
âItâs really sweet of you to think of Kevin. But heâs six. He doesnât need to visit Santa Claus anymore. And Iâd rather instill in him the true meaning of Christmas, Jesusâ birth, not just exchanging presents.â
I pled my case, wanting her to know how much it would mean to Kevin. Heâd never met a Santa who could understand him. Last year when weâd taken him to our local mall, heâd signed his name to the Santa.
âYes, Iâll bring you that,â the Santa had replied.
Kevin had cried for hours. He decided Santa didnât give gifts to children who couldnât hear and speak. That isnât good enough , I thought, not for Kevin . He deserved a Santa who could relate.
âYou really want to drive all that way just so he can tell him he wants a Pokemon?â
âSanta isnât just a man in a red suit,â I explained. âHeâs the spirit of giving. He is Jesusâ helper, spreading cheer to all the little girls and boys, even the deaf ones. For the first time, Kevin will believe that Santa knows who he is.â
She nodded. âWell, all right, weâll go tonight. Bring a map and your camera.â
âOf course!â I laughed.
Later in the evening, Kevin piled into the minivan, clutching his pillow.
His mother signed, âDonât you want to see Saint Nick?â
Kevin moved his fingers. âHe doesnât like me unless I write.â
âThatâs not true,â his mother mouthed slowly.
Soon, Kevin snuggled in his backseat bed as mile after mile drifted by. Palm trees and scrub brush gave way to reddened clay. We drove until the air chilled and the land grew hilly.
When we arrived at the mall early the next afternoon, Jessica signed to her wide-eyed son, âWeâre here.â
Wiggling in anticipation, he signed, âDo you think Santa cares that I came?â
I looked around at all the cars and knew enough to nod my head yes.
Kevin jumped out of the minivan and took his motherâs hand and mine. Together we walked through the crowded walkways to the open courtyard. There, on top of a platform, was an older man with real gray hair. His stomach looked pillow-plumped, but there was no mistaking his outfit of red and white. He sat enthroned next to a sparkling, bedecked Christmas tree.
His mother gestured, âThatâs him, straight from the North Pole.â
Kevinâs face flushed with excitement at the whole Yule scene. He vaulted up the steps and stood in front of Santa. His mother and I scampered to catch up. By the time we got to Santaâs chair, Kevin was signing, âIâm
Fuyumi Ono
Tailley (MC 6)
Robert Graysmith
Rich Restucci
Chris Fox
James Sallis
John Harris
Robin Jones Gunn
Linda Lael Miller
Nancy Springer