Tears & Cheer.

There was a reason I didn’t put makeup on during that particular morning.

I knew there was a reason.

Because without even knowing it would happen, I wound up crying.

And no one wants to see this mascara ridden face when she cries.

No one.

Let’s see: it was around Christmas-time.

What day, I don’t remember exactly.

What I do remember is that I was working, and it was manic.

Like a bad dream, this particular shift had me transported back to this summer; which, if you don’t know, was The Worst Working Summer of My Life.

Working through the irreparable damage that this summer cost me as a food service worker, it was a challenge for me to stay positive on this particular day.

Basically, there was a line out the door all. day. long.

We were short-staffed, yet again. Battling the onslaught of waffle tickets, I not only had to ignore the misbehaving children running laps up and down the aisle, but I had to wear the face of accommodation and politeness, as was my job.

Even if, on the inside, I was literally screaming.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

It was in the midst of this chaos though, that there suddenly rang the sweet sound of bells.

Now my first thought was: I swear if it’s kids that walk through that door ringing those damn bells…

And so, preparing myself to put on the face of Scrooge, I was surprised when it wasn’t kids that walked through that door, but Santa.

Wait. Santa?

Yes. The Santa Claus.

And it was like all time had stopped.

Coming out from behind the counter to take a closer look at Santa Claus who just so happened to waltz into our doors on the seemingly worst day of my life, I found a kid already with him, looking up at Santa’s face with the same fascination and awe that was written on mine.

And then I started to cry.

Because out of all the things to happen during a shift that was taking so much out of me emotionally, physically, and mentally, I never in my life, expected my saving grace to be THE Santa Claus.

But there he was: jolly, grinning, and spreading Christmas cheer.

And I just… couldn’t stop crying.

I was so overcome with emotion.

Santa Claus!

While I would’ve loved to jump on his lap and ask him for the day to just end and the screaming children to just shut up, I instead thanked him.

For saving me, for inspiring me, for making me realize that even during the worst of days, there’s opportunity for joy and light.

I guess, in the end, it was still a good thing that I didn’t put makeup on during that particular morning.

But I’m glad I cried. I’m glad I was moved to tears. And, like that little kid staring up at Jolly Old Saint Nicholas, I’m glad Santa was there when he was.

I’d like to think it was a little bit of Christmas magic that made him come in on that particular morning..

Cheers to you, Santa.