Secret Santa

As he was buttoning up his shirt he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to the bushy white beard arranged meticulously on the foam head on the dresser. From there it was an easy jump to the array of hats hung just within arm’s reach on the otherwise empty wall. And by then he had turned completely around to face the half open closet. One French door stood wide open revealing the everyday clothes of this businessman who had long ago outgrown the requirement to wear ties to the office. But peeking out one of the slats of the closed door came the sheen from where the pearl button caught hold of the light from the bright overhead lamp. He sighed and smiled briefly before turning back to the mirror to make sure he hadn’t missed any buttons on his plaid shirt.

Today was a normal day. Today his calendar was full of things like conference calls, staff meetings and the monthly long lunch with his wife. It would be a good, productive day. But normal all the same.

But tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow would be the beginning of something new. Something to temper the normalcy. Something to up the ante.

He pictured the beginning as if it were yesterday. He had stopped at the corner diner for a cup of coffee to warm up on his way home from a long day. As he stared out the window lost in thought he caught a glimpse of a child as he was ducking back behind the counter. His waitress had quickly shooed and shushed the little boy away into the cupboard with the straws and napkins. Hurriedly looking around to make sure no one saw his bright red train and too small overalls split in the knees. She locked with the man’s gaze long enough to know he had indeed seen. Her face flushed scarlet as she smiled apologetically and scooted over to his table with a coffee refill.

“I’m sorry, he won’t bother you a bit, I promise,” she half whispered.

Before he could even give her a “don’t worry about it” smile, she was being cornered by a man who seemed to be encased in grease. His skin shone with a dull, gritty glaze that marked not only his face, but every inch of exposed skin. The clothes he wore crinkled in all the wrong places accenting their age and soil level. When he spoke the accumulated grease seemed to trickle out of the corners of his mouth to make way for the harsh words spilling out in an angry rush.

The waitress stood strongly for a moment and then crumpled into tears. Her eyes darted from corner to corner of the little diner attempting to pull herself together before any other customers could see her loss of dignity in the face of this dingy man. She slipped out from behind his bulk, careful not to touch any part of him, and slid across to the cupboard where her son was hiding quietly. When she opened the doors he greeted her with a beaming smile and stretched out his little arms so she could scoop him up easily. She slung him onto her hip in one fluid movement as she quickly scanned her tables for any missed tip money, threw her shoulders back and strode purposefully out of the diner without so much as a glance backwards.

There was something about the scene that had struck the man. The way she had in a matter of moments gone from destroyed at the hands of this muck of a man to confident. How she had re-arranged her features from hopeless to near haughty. So that her son could see her true face. Her happiness to see him. So he could see his adoration reflected in her eyes. Her conscious choice to be the mother he needed her to be instead of the waitress she no longer was struck him as one of the most beautiful moments he had ever seen.

He quickly grabbed his coat and ran out the door after her. He caught up to her on the corner and asked her to wait a moment.

“I’m so sorry he spoke to you that way.”

“Oh, it’s ok. I’m used to it.”

There was a glimmer of shame in her eyes, but she traded it out quickly in favor of wary expectation.

“Was there something you needed sir?”

“No. I just…I just wanted you to have this.”

He quickly dug a $50 bill out of his pocket and thrust it at her. The wariness turned into undisguised caution as she took a step back.

“Wh-why? Why would you do that sir?”

“Just please. Please take it. Please. You deserve it. And I don’t need it.”

She looked at him for a long moment, the internal debate evident on her face. Finally she slowly reached out towards his hand and curled her fingers around the bill. A flicker of a smile played around the corners of her mouth as she struggled with something to say.

Finally she just said, “Thank you.” Hitched her son back up onto her hip, turned and strode away bowing her head slightly into the wind.

He stood there for a long time. Long enough that when he realized he hadn’t moved in a while, his fingers were numbing and his eyes were stinging from the cold. He looked around quickly to get his bearings and then headed home.

The next day he had taken a personal day to sit in his study and stare out the window. He had stared for hours as plans started arranging themselves in his head. A way to come full circle. To use his own fortune to help others find theirs. But how? He couldn’t very well patrol the city’s diners in hopes of finding down-on-their luck waitresses every night after work. His wife would surely raise an eyebrow at that scheme.

After doing some cursory research on the internet to attempt to find one or two charities in town that he could get to know and coming up not quite fulfilled, an idea struck him. As he was aimlessly perusing the newspaper waiting for inspiration to hit, it did. Why couldn’t he actively search out the people who needed his help? Why couldn’t he figure out a way to find the people who just needed some help? No strings attached, perfectly timed help. He focused his eyes on the stories he had been surfing over now and found one story in particular. An electrical fire had taken a family of 5’s entire house and most of their belongings.

An anticipatory smile spread across the man’s face. He could almost imagine himself showing up at the shelter where this family was staying and giving them a stack of cash. Maybe shaking their hands, wishing them luck, and then simply walking away. Leaving them with a feeling that they really were being taken care of in their darkest hour. Leaving the man, finally, with a feeling of using his assets to truly improve his environment.

Suddenly however, his mind raced ahead to a time when he may no longer be able to do this. Not because he would run out of money. Not because his wife would mind and cut him off. But because word would get around that there was this guy walking around giving out money. People would come knocking at his door, bothering him and his family. People would, only with the best intentions, draw as much attention to him as possible. In an effort to thank him, to make sure he was recognized for his generosity.

No. He could not have that. It would be chaos and would suck the joy from the whole proposal. He had to remain anonymous. There had to be a way.

And in the weeks to come, he had found that way. Or at least he hoped he had. He had spent days combing dollar and thrift stores for clothes he would never choose to wear, hats that would cover his distinctive red hair, huge sunglasses to hide his face and a big, white fluffy fake beard. He figured that if he could hide himself; make himself unrecognizable that he could carry on with his plan longer. The other component was choosing people he did not know. That was pretty easy. His town was large enough that there was always someone in need and he almost never knew them personally.

It seemed his plan was complete.