Fergus Finlay: Santa Claus’s great gift is his ability to make a child’s hope and joy real

IT’S been that time of year when I’ve been donning my red suit, seeking to deputise for the big man. I wear a short beard all year round, but over the last couple of weeks I’ve been adding a big white fluffy one. My visiting beard, I call it.

Every now and again I meet a boy or girl who’s doubtful. They really want to meet the real Santa Claus, and they’re not sure I’m an adequate substitute. So I explain that because we’re all so busy at this time of year, and it gets really hot in our workshops, I have to keep my beard trimmed, and that’s why I wear the cotton wool beard when I’m visiting them.

If they’re still a bit doubtful, they can pull the real one. Sometimes that can hurt a little bit – you’d be surprised how enthusiastic those beard-pullers can be! – but it helps to reassure them that Santa Claus is definitely coming this year.

I’ve met children who’ve never met Santa Claus before, who aren’t certain that he’ll be able to make it to their houses this year. But he will. He needs a lot of help, because it simply isn’t possible for the elves to keep pace with the demand.

You’re the ones who give the help. I’ve been asking everyone I meet to try to buy one extra present this year, when they’re doing their Christmas shopping, and donate it to the organisations that have ways of helping Santa with his deliveries. And this year, more than ever before, you have responded with amazing generosity all over the country.

A man in Galway collected two van-loads of presents. Companies all over Ireland got together to work on lists of children, organised by age and gender, and delivered whole collections of beautifully wrapped gifts for children they had never met.

Thousands of you sent vouchers, and hampers of food, and gift tokens. Every one of them found a good home.

The other day I got an e-mail from one of my colleagues. Her name is Shirley and she works in one of our projects in Cork. This is what she said, and it brilliantly reflects the way we all feel:

“As a project worker I got thinking about all the donors who have helped me bring Christmas magic into the homes of the families I work with and the donors give without ever really knowing how much they help.

Everyone who has given a gift or donation this year have given more than they realise for each toy or donation is not just that, they are really giving the joy and magic of Christmas for children experiencing difficult times and supporting us to find positive solutions to make things better for them.

“As a project worker this week I’ve had mothers cry with happiness into my arms, seen a dad fall to his knees with gratitude, and in the New Year I will hear with excited tone and smiles children telling me all about what magic they found under their tree this year, for that I am truly grateful to those who give and do not get to see this.

“I’m conscious that making a donation of any kind costs time and money and God knows time is precious and money is hard earned. It fills me with Christmas spirit knowing there are so many people out there willing these children and families on and supporting me to make that happen.”

What does the real Santa think of it all, I wonder. Perhaps he doesn’t have time to think with all the pressures on him this time of year. But I know there’s an awful lot of planning, and I have good reason to be believe that he has flown over our little country many times in the run up to Christmas.

He has to get the geography right in his head, after all. There are huge housing estates, with hundreds of children waiting hopefully, and there are a great many little towns and villages, even single houses out in the country. Smaller numbers of children, but all with the same hope.

And there are hidden children, hard for Santa to find. There’s a little girl whose mother was trafficked into Ireland as a minor, and abandoned when she became pregnant.

There are children who live in homes where there is violence and fear. Homes where money is spent on a spiral of drug addiction rather than food and warmth.

Homes where poverty makes in well-nigh impossible to set the Christmas table that you want to set for your children. Homes where children carry huge adult responsibilities.

Five hundred homes in Ireland this year where children are bereaved by suicide, and more than a few where parents and siblings have been bereaved by the suicide of a young person. Homes where children are struggling with mental health.

It must be heart-breaking for Santa Claus to see all this. If he reads the official statistics (I hope he doesn’t) he knows that there are 113,729 children living in consistent poverty in Ireland. One of the measures of consistent poverty is a group of things called “deprivation indicators”.

One of the deprivations indicators used is “unable to afford to buy presents for family or friends at least once a year”.

That’s a huge challenge for Santa Claus, year after year. And each year in the recent past those numbers have grown. More and more children live in consistent poverty in Ireland, more and more children face that reality at this time of year.

But still Santa Claus comes. Every year his sleigh is loaded to the top, thanks to all the help he gets from you, and every year he makes the journey. And for just one moment each year, loneliness is replaced by the smile of a child that Santa didn’t forget.

Of course Christmas is just one day. Of course Santa can’t come calling all year round. But for that one day, there is nothing more important than being a child. It doesn’t matter how cold the house is, or how sparse the Christmas dinner is. When Santa comes, all that is forgotten.

Over the last ten years of my work in Barnardos, and working alongside all the other organisations that try as hard as they can to make life better for children, I’ve seen both sides of Christmas.

The one thing I’ve learned above all is that at the very heart and essence of childhood is hope and joy. No matter what the adversity, no matter how hard the life, all of our children have a capacity for joy. And Santa Claus’s greatest gift is the way he can make that joy real.

So: to all of you who have children (or grandchildren!). To all of you who have helped to make Santa’s journey possible this year. To all of you who will cherish memories of loved ones and happy times this Christmas.

Can I, on Santa’s behalf (because we’re in frequent touch!) wish you all a peaceful and happy Christmas. You’re going to see joy and hope this Thursday morning. May it sustain you all for a long time.