Christmastime is here,
Happiness and cheer,
Fun for all that children call
Their favorite time of year.
These familiar lines from Vince Guaraldi Trio’s Charlie Brown Christmas bring smiles to many faces. (You’re probably humming it now, aren’t you?) For most, this is a season of joy, filled with laughter, family, and festive fun. But after nearly 40 years of wearing the big red suit, I’ve learned the season often holds not only joy but also sorrow—heartbreaking sorrow that Santa quietly hears year after year. As I write this, I’m moved to tears by the many stories carried in my heart.
When I began this journey, I never anticipated that God was preparing me for a ministry disguised as Santa Claus. People often say, “You can’t mix Jesus and Santa,” but deep down, I know Jesus is the reason I wear the suit. He is the true source of joy and the heart of this mission.
Early on, I realized Santa’s role extends far beyond laughter and gifts. At an elementary school, a shy first-grader lingered at a distance, refusing to approach. After the visit, the principal confided that the little girl was living in an abusive household and had recently been placed with relatives. That moment opened my eyes to the profound responsibility I carried—not just to bring smiles but to notice the silent cries for help. From then on, I paid closer attention, looking for those who needed more than holiday cheer.
Another unforgettable moment came years later at a different school. I noticed a boy in a wheelchair, quietly watching from afar. He didn’t plan to visit Santa—it was too difficult to get him on stage, and his family couldn’t afford a photo. With some help, we got him up there, and I made sure his picture was taken—courtesy of the North Pole. Years later, I saw him again, now walking with prosthetic limbs, his face beaming with joy and resilience. It was a humbling reminder of how even small gestures can create lasting impact.
Over the years, Santa has heard countless “whispers of sorrow” from children and families. That first little girl wasn’t the only one whose pain led to action. I’ve heard heartbreaking confessions—like a 13-year-old girl who revealed she was being abused. Together, we gathered the information needed to help her. These whispers, spoken softly and with trembling honesty, reveal deep needs that go far beyond toys.
I’ve also noticed a striking contrast: children who have much often ask for more, while those with little tend to ask for much less. One child simply wanted his parents to stop fighting. Another boy, through tears, begged Santa to help his dad quit smoking so he wouldn’t die like Grandpa did. After talking with the father, I was later told he hadn’t smoked since that day. It’s moments like these that remind me how every visit carries a deeper story.
Santa has been entrusted with countless secrets. Some children ask for shelter: “Santa, we live in our car,” or “Grandma is taking care of us because Mommy won’t come home.” Others share family struggles: “Daddy lost his job, and we have to move.” In hospitals, I’ve met families facing heartbreaking uncertainty. I remember one mother holding her newborn and whispering through tears, “We don’t know if we’ll be able to bring him home, but you made us smile tonight.” That’s why I visit—not just to spread joy, but to remind people they are seen, loved, and cared for.
Loss and grief often accompany my visits too. One family came shortly after their granddad, who had planned to bring the children to see me, died in an accident. We laughed and reminisced about him, sharing stories of his love and faith. The visit ended with tears, but also with prayer for healing and comfort.
There have been widows, like the mother whose husband was killed in combat. With nothing for her children, she turned to Santa, and I gave what I could from my bag. Moments like these remind me that the greatest gifts are not wrapped in shiny paper but in presence, care, and compassion.
This year, my team and I are traveling lighter, trusting God to provide as we go. We’ve been blessed with a hotel for the season, and we know the rest will come. If you feel called to help, your support would mean the world to us. (Contact details are available upon request.)
Each year brings new challenges and whispers of sorrow. While I can’t share every story, one thing remains true: Santa’s visits are more than joy and laughter—they are moments of connection, prayer, and healing. When you see Santa speaking softly with a child or family, know that there may be a deeper need. You might even catch a tear in his eye. I ask for your prayers—for the children, for their families, and for the whispered requests that only Santa hears.
“My little children, let us not love with word or tongue, but in deed and in truth.” — 1 John 3:18
Durward Blanks has been a professional Santa Claus/ St. Nicholas for over thirty years. He is a motivational speaker and writer and enjoys sharing his many life experiences with others. As a follower of Christ, his mission is to share God’s love with as many as possible. You may contact Santa Durward at [email protected] or phone 615.496.1368
