It was the evening before Christmas and salesman Charlie Moss, last to leave the auto dealership, was about to lock its doors, having endured a dreadful December. Sales that month were normally slow but this year was worse due to a nation-wide economic crisis. With not a single commission to his credit, there would be few gifts for his children, no turkey for Christmas dinner.
A gentle knock on the door startled him. Outside was a man dressed in a Santa Claus uniform. "Must be drunk," thought Charlie, assuming the apparition was a department store Santa, staggering home after too many sips at a local bar. "Just what I don't need!"
"Go away… we're closed!"
"Please, sir," the man in the Santa suit pleaded, "the runner on my sleigh is broken and if it isn't repaired tonight children all over the world won't receive their gifts. If you could just take a moment to fix it I'll be on my way." And that may have been the end of this affair had Charlie not noticed that there was, indeed, a sleigh parked, slightly askew, outside the dealer's service door.
Now it happened that our salesman was also handy with a welding torch. Feeling rather sorry for the old gent and willing to humour him, he helped drag the sleigh into a service bay. A few minutes later the runner was expertly repaired. Charlie and the white-bearded man gently pushed it onto the falling snow.
For a brief moment the car salesman was certain he'd glimpsed a small herd of reindeer standing in the shadows but quickly dismissed the idea. Probably just a decoration on someone's front lawn, he thought. Suddenly a police cruiser arrived, emergency lights flashing. The man in the red suit was read his rights, handcuffed, and pushed into the back seat. "Hey…what are you fellows doing?" Charlie demanded.
"We've had reports of an old guy stuffing things into people's chimneys" was their reply. "Can't be too careful these days!"
As he watched the police drive away salesman Charlie Moss turned to the darkened showroom, unhappy over his inability to make a joyous Christmas for his family and saddened at the treatment of the gentleman in the red suit. Then, just as he turned to leave he noticed, lying on the floor, an envelope addressed to "Charlie Moss, Salesman, from "Santa"." Cautiously opening the envelope, Charlie found ten one-hundred-dollar bills.
Proving once again that it's not the size of your car that matters, it's the size of your heart.
And a Merry Christmas to all from your host, Philip Powell
[Photo: Rocky Hill Reindeer]