COMMENTARY: Christmas Becomes Nonnegotiable

The rotund gentleman got off his reindeerpowered ride to slip into something a little less comfortable.

“Why did I ever come up with this way of getting into houses?” he thought to himself. “One of these days I’m going to get stuck and won’t be able to go anywhere.”

But not at this house.

He popped into the living room and went quickly to work pulling toys from his bag and arranging them carefully under the tree.

As he put the fi nishing touches his work, he glanced a nearby table with a plate of cookies.

“All right, if you insist,” he said with a bellyshaking chuckle as he reached for the snack.

“Santa, you didn’t bring me everything I asked for,” came a voice near the hallway.

By this time, Santa usually would have disappeared in an instant with a twinkle of his nose, leaving the sleepy boy to wonder if what he had glimpsed with groggy eyes was ever actually there.

But the jolly old elf was far ahead of schedule thanks to some logistical improvements he’d picked up from the Little Town of Bentonville.

He had a few minutes to spare. He’d been delivering gifts to children for years, but lately he’d grown a little, just slightly, weary of this new generation of little ones who want what they want and aren’t satisfied unless they get it all.

He surveyed all he had laid out under the massive Christmas tree. Many of the toys had been on the list the boy provided.

The youngster, however, had practically asked for the moon and the stars.

Santa wasn’t in charge of those, he’d said to himself with a chuckle when he reviewed the boy’s list a few weeks earlier.

“Yes, child, that’s right,” Santa responded as he crunched a cookie. “You asked for a lot of toys.”

“That’s because it’s what I wanted,” the boy said with a bit of defi ance.

“Why did I even bother to come talk with you and give you my list if youaren’t going to follow it?

It’s pretty simple, Santa.

I spelled out the names of everything I wanted clearly.”

Santa brushed the crumbs off his bright white beard.

“Listen, child. You’ve got to think about how this has worked for a long, long time. There’s a sort of deal between me and the children: If you’re good throughout the year, Santa will bring you some gifts.

If you’re not, well, I don’t even like to consider the thought. We all need to be good.

“But the deal is, if you are good, Santa brings you some toys. It’s never been expected that children get everything they want.”

“Why not?” the boy retorted. “That’s what I want.”

“But look at all the gifts under your tree?” Santa said, waving his white-gloved hand toward the many presents he’d carefully arranged.

“I’ve given you some great stuff. A lot of those things were on your list, and there are a few others you didn’t ask for but I thought would be good for you, too. Some of the things you asked for wouldn’t really be good for you and your family.”

Santa could tell he wasn’tgetting through. The boy had crossed his arms and had a scowl on his face.

“Santa, I really thought a lot about the things on my list. I think I know what’s best,” the boy said. “You need to give me the rest of my stuff .”

“That’s not going to happen,” Santa said as he prepared to ascend in his usual manner.

“Nobody gets everything they want. Maybe you’ll understand that a little more when you grow up.”

“Well, I’m just not going to play with any of the toys you brought me, and another thing ... ,” Santa heard the boy saying as he disappeared to the roof.

As Santa got back on his sleigh and prepared to make the quick trip to the next house, he glanced at the monument in the distance and pondered what had just happened.

It was just like the conversation he’d had a little earlier at little John’s house.

Barack had been just as demanding and singleminded.

“I guess I’m not the one who has to worry about getting stuck,” he said to himself. “Next year, I might just skip Washington, D.C.” GREG HARTON IS OPINION PAGE EDITOR FOR NWA MEDIA.

Opinion, Pages 5 on 12/24/2012

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