Santa, don't come again

Ajith PERERA

The rising sun peeps through a tiny hole in the window and gives a lovely smile when he sees the baby Bhagya asleep embracing her pillow. Kalyani, had begun her daily chores before the sun had risen. Her tremendous fight against time is the secret of her success.

Bhagya, a little girl of four years is dressed like a flower to be sent to montessori. A small bag slung behind, a small bottle hung round her shoulder, and a pink handkerchief on her chest and two ribbons on her ponytail remind everyone of a fairy.

The montessori garden is full of beautiful flowers. Children with bright smiling faces run all over the place.

The little angels flock around the teacher in a circle under a shady tree. They start singing hymns with the teacher. As the montessori is near the road passers-by could hear the melody.

They never forget to look at these children because it is a pleasant sight to begin the day with. While exchanging pleasantries with the children the teacher gradually built up a conversation about Christmas. The innocent children who didn't know much about Christmas listened to her with their mouths wide open.

"On Christmas night Santa Claus comes to houses of good children with gifts. He comes to share his happiness. Are you good children?"

"Yes teacher..."

The children shouted in unison at the top of their voices. The sewing machine, Kalyani's only support, is crying louder than her heart. Kalyani a widow of a fallen hero is a well-known seamstress in the area. She toils from sunrise to sunset to saw a better future for her child, as is the dream of all parents.

"Amma, today the teacher told us that Santa Claus is coming to houses of good children on Christmas night. Is it true Amma? Who is Santa Claus?"

"Yes putha, Santa Claus is a saint in our religion. He loves children like you. He comes to good children with gifts as Jesus was born at midnight on Christmas Day."

"Will he come to our place too Amma?"

Yes certainly. You are a good girl. He will bring you a beautiful present."

"If he comes here we do not have at least a chair to offer him. What are we going to serve him?"

Kalyani ran forward and enveloped her daughter in a warm embrace.

"No child, Santa comes at midnight when we are at Holy Mass.

He doesn't come to stay with us. He has a long journey before the dawn. Besides he loves poor people very much."

Although the foundation was laid for the whole house Ranil had been able to build only two rooms and the kitchen before he was killed in a bomb blast.

She toils so much to keep the promise she made before his corpse.

The sweet smell of the various food items prepared at neighbouring houses and the sporadic sound of crackers tell her that the neighbours have started celebrating Christmas already. Unlike other women in the neighbourhood Kalyani pedals the machine to earn her living.

The more she pedals, more she earns. She too loves to make tasty and delicious dishes to entertain friends and especially to make her child happy but her sad fate prevented her. Bhagya was next door with her friends.

Suddenly she came home and stood leaning against the door of the sewing room peeping in.

"Meena and her brother with their father are decorating the house.

They have a crib and a beautiful Christmas tree. Their mother is busy making sweets."

"My sweetheart, we'll decorate in the evening. I'll definitely take you to the bazaar and buy anything you want. Don't worry."

Christmas comes to the bazaar at the beginning of the month, for most of the people this is an opportunity to waste their hard earned money, put by throughout the year. Those who are strangers to charity suddenly become spendthrifts during this season in which they expect the advent of Jesus Christ. What a pity! Christians, especially the rich do not seem to understand the reality of Christmas. For them Christmas is just a season to eat and drink to the fill.

Their worldly preparations do not allow them ever to think of their spiritual life. Kalyani saw how people wasted money on useless foibles like fireworks.

The street urchins were enjoying themselves lighting crackers on the road, on which the people are pushing along in herds.

All of a sudden she saw a Santa Claus dancing in the supermarket surrounded by small children. She at once raised Bhagya and showed her the Santa.

"Is he the one who is coming tonight...?"

"No my dear, this uncle is dressed like Santa. Santa who comes with gifts tonight is a saint.

He comes from heaven with Jesus."

How can I tell this little one that present-day Santa has become a commercialized item?

The present economical climate has exploited Santa too. Yet in the hearts of children Santa is a pure saint to this day. They long to receive presents. Kalyani remembered how she had been waiting for Ranil from Jaffna those days. Her longing for his arrival was quite equal to Bhagya's desire to see her 'Santa'. Ranil would never come back.

Her thoughts led her far away.

"Amma aren't we buying crackers?"

"No putha, we'll have some balloons, decorations and a few sparklers but no crackers. They are dangerous."

Her heart didn't urge her to light crackers which would bring to her mind's eye the gunshots and the blast enveloped her husband on the battlefield.

The sound of the crackers was reverberating echo. Moreover, her wailing heart doesn't ever let her forget the day of his doom.

"Santa comes and keeps your gift by the side of the crib."

The mother pointed at a place on the table. At Kalyani's words the girl lost her grip over the balloon, which she had been inflating."

"At what time?"

The girl raised her voice in surprise.

"When we are at midnight mass," the mother replied while placing the parcels she had brought in their small steel cupboard and the eatables in the kitchen. Kalyani knew the girl was in her dreams but she hadn't the heart to shake her out of the dream world.

"Amma when Santa comes here how can he open the door?"

"He doesn't need to do so. He comes with Jesus." Kalyani saw how happy the child was. She usually goes to bed at nine but today Santa kept her awake.

They decorated the Christmas tree and hung balloons. Kalyani who had brought painting sticks and a picture book for colouring secretly placed them by the side of the crib before leaving for mid-night mass.

The church ground was illuminated with blinking bulbs.

The colourful lights and the costumes in the grounds are a poison to meditating minds.

Kalyani, in a simple white saree, with her richly dressed angel found a small space under a tree. They spread an old newspaper and sat on that.

During the mass Bhagya spoke several times about Santa's coming. Half way through the mass Kalyani saw the little angel had fallen asleep.

The church grounds turned out to be a carnival parade after the Holy Mass. The fire works of different shapes and colours deafened the ears for a few seconds.

Kalyani hurried home with the girl. They came back home to see the door was wide open.

"Amma Santa has come home!"

Kalyani couldn't walk further but the girl wanted to run forward. She dragged the mother. Kalyani couldn't believe her eyes. She felt as if she was losing her senses, but she held her daughter's hand tight. Bhagya sprang to the gift by the side of the crib. Her happiness rose leaps and bounds.

On the contrary Kalyani was thunderstruck. She ran to the steel cupboard in which she kept her money, the valuable sarees of brides, the bride's maids and some other materials. The burglars had entered the house through the roof and left it in chaos.

That sight reduced her to a pulp. The girl whose dreams had come true ran to the mother with the gift to share her happiness. But she could see the mother had fallen on her knees crying bitterly in front of the steel cupboard."

"Why Amma aren't you happy? Look..... What Santa has given me."

"No putha just look at this cupboard, we are robbed."

"Santa has kept this small gift and robbed all our valuables."

"No... Santa is not ruthless. He doesn't rob others but gives."

Kalyani answered in tears. Kalyani ran calling for help with the girl to the neighbours who also had come from the church.

"Oh My God! Heartless rascals. When they lose their bets at the gamblers' den they rob others," said the neighbours.

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