I am falling behind, nothing to get me up on my soap box today or I just am too bushed to make the climb onto it. The wife was off work today so we made a pilgrimage to the Pickens jockey lot (aka flea market). Our daughter didn’t have anything special going on in class so she came with us. It was a chilly Carolina morn when we ventured out. As it was cool and I wanted to be in the Christmas spirit I wore my Santa hat. It is a pretty nice one and rather warm if you pull it down to cover your ears it is as nice as a stocking cap. We found some nice bargains and bought a few and passed on most of the others. I did see some very nice pieces of depression and carnival glass. Not that we have room for more glass. But I still enjoy looking.
There were several smaller children that saw me and thought I was Santa with the cap on and my mostly all gray beard. I really got a kick out of that. We hit a few stores on our way home and there was the most darling little girl who kept hollering out to me ” hey Santa”. She did it at least three times. I love small children, they are so innocent and precious. No one has yet taught them to hate, tell lies or be prejudiced. It’s not the first time I have been mistaken for Santa Claus.
I can remember years ago when I still had a mostly red beard instead of gray when a young black toddler and his mother were standing in line at a fast food restaurant. When he saw me he yelled out “Santa Claus” in the cute voice of a child still learning to talk. And as he yelled out he dove out of his mothers arms toward me. I believe if I had not caught him he would have hit the floor thats how quick and sudden he was. Totally surprising his mother who had him resting on one hip as mothers do. She was embarrassed and was apologizing as if she thought I would be mad, all the while, I was holding him in my arms listening to him jabber away. I told him to be good and Santa would bring him lots of toys and laughed to his momma that “I have you in trouble now”.? I held him for several minutes before giving him back to his momma who still seemed embarrassed. I told her that I felt like anyone who could be mad at a child or be mean to him because he was a different color was as sorry as they get. I could never hurt a child and have no pity on anyone who does.
The only color that has ever mattered to me was green. I feel it is wrong to judge anyone without getting to know them some. Be it they are different races or dress differently than you. Wouldn’t it be nice to see the world through the eyes of a child again, with no hate, prejudice, and greed. The world would be a better place if we could do that.