The confusion of Father Christmas
eShowe journalist LARRY BENTLEY has had some experience playing the bearded man.
EVER since childhood, I can remember being threatened by a tubby old man in a red suit and carrying a green bag full of toys.
Whether you know him as Father Christmas, Santa Claus, or any other name, this joyful character is supposed to bring joy, and presents, to the children of the world.
Sleighs, sleds and fields of snow are all the images conjured up in our European-based minds, much different to the heat of a summer Christmas in Africa.
Now do not get me wrong, this was a jolly man, but as the Christmas season drew near, he became more and more of a problem to me.
Parents over the years have used this figure to try and improve their children’s behaviour, especially as holiday boredom sets in.
‘There will be no presents’, ‘Father Christmas will not come’ and more recently, ‘you will get charcoal’.
The last being a German threat for naughty children, and yes, our children did get charcoal, much to their disgust.
Not, of course, that I was ever naughty, maybe slightly misbehaved or misunderstood, but never naughty.
Since being invited by the Pietermaritzburg mayor in the 90s to join a parade, including few spritely elves dressed in green and the Town Crier to hand out sweets in the Church Street Boulevard, I have done a few more stints as the ‘father’ at various occasions.
Is it him?
While these are fun and I have had many tugs at my beard to see if I am genuine, I also enjoy taking a back seat at children’s Christmas party where the bearded, red suited man is to make his appearance.
Sidling into the back row as the children are primed for the miraculous appearance, I sit and watch their reaction.
Now I do not have one of these ‘made overseas’ beards which come in plastic bags, complete with matching hat, suit and sometimes reading glasses.
Thus I appear familiar, but a little undressed, to be ‘him’.
While the children are encouraged to sing songs and be happy, one child inevitably turns around, sees me, and the fun starts as he nudges his friend.
This will continue like a row dominoes falling along a line when the first one is pushed over.
Soon very few are listening to what the person in charge is saying and the attention is all on the man ‘who could be’.
Questions such as, ‘Have you been good?’ and ‘What do you want for Christmas?’ no longer have a bearing in the children’s minds.
The confusion is total, when, on the back of a bakkie, motor bike or some other form of transport, the ‘real’ man arrives.
Soon my presence at the back of the room is no longer relevant as ‘he’ has arrived and ‘has remembered my name and brought just what I wanted.’
Clever man!
See you next Christmas!
