• Graduate of the Northern Lights Santa Academy.

• Member of the National Santa Agency.

• Member of the International Brotherhood of Real Bearded Santas.

Having a slight resemblance to the famed portly gentleman, I was approached by my daughter’s daycare to portray Santa. I was nervous though, realizing I could be part of a core-memory for the children. I did not want to screw it up, so I spent every free moment doing research.

I'm originally from Puerto Rico and we celebrated the Three Magi, but Santa wasn't as omnipresent as it is in the mainland. My wife put me through a course of all the classic Christmas movies, starting with Rankin/Bass going all the way to the latest Christmas movies out. I researched ceaselessly and read books on the lore around Santa.

I bought a suit and soon after I portrayed Santa at my employer’s Christmas party. I brought treats, presents, games, and fun activities for everyone. The event was a hit! Next, I went to my daughter’s daycare. As Santa drives a sleigh, not a Subaru, I parked around the corner. I was sure the children would recognize me. With my sleigh bells ringing, I met with each of them, crouching down to eye-level and holding their gaze. I wanted them to feel fully seen by Santa. Not an afterthought or something to deal with and move on, as so many children are often treated.

Not one child recognized me as Pablo. To them I was Santa. They were star-struck and filled with wonder. In that moment I felt an overwhelming responsibility of the suit, the role, and the children. I kept in-character, but it was a very emotional moment. Though I was there an hour, it felt like it flew by in seconds. Even as I left, I didn’t want to break eye-contact, so I walked backwards out the door, waving, ringing my bells, and making sure I made a lasting impression on them.

I walked to my car, lost in thought as an elementary-school bus passed alongside. Through darkened windows, I could see the children pressing their faces and I could hear shouts of joy from them as they waved at Santa. The bus driver smiled and honked her horn, while I pointed at the children and laughed heartily.

When I finally got into my car, I burst into tears. The whole thing just felt so big. I called my wife, explaining that my plans to go to the grocery store to pick up a few things were out the window. I couldn't risk any child seeing me wearing Santa’s suit, buying groceries or any other 'typical' schlub behavior.

I had two-and-a-half hours before going as Santa to my wife’s work-party. With my pets at home, I couldn't risk them ruining the suit. I drove around just looking for anywhere I could go to that would make sense to see Santa at. I spotted a store advertising a Christmas-Village. Well, at least if I got spotted, I would be in-context for any children.

I went in, only the proprietor was there and I explained my situation, just like I've done in this story. She told me that her father used to be a Santa as well and he would go to nursing homes between 'gigs'. I went back in my car with one thought in my mind: I am in the suit right now, not tomorrow or the day after, but now. I was not far from nursing home that I visited when my grandmother was there. Could Batman ignore a crime while in the Bat-suit? I don't think so.

Typically nursing homes won’t let you in without a pass (which I no longer had), but it couldn't hurt to try. I knocked on the door, told them the story and to my surprise, they agreed. They sent an escort with me, I asked her to tell me the name of each person before we got to their room, to help maintain the character of Santa.

Having dealt with my grandmother's Alzheimer's, I was worried about their reactions, but when they saw Santa, their eyes lit up, sparkling with life. There was just so much joy in their faces. Some that hadn't spoken much in months, just came to life.

One room had a patient being transferred by orderlies from her bed to a wheelchair. By the sound of it was clearly an extremely painful process. I didn't want to interrupt, so I waved from the doorway and wished them a Merry Christmas. As I started to leave, she called out "Santa please don't go… hold my hand!" I don't know how I kept my composure in that moment. I talked to her and held her hand as she was transferred to her wheelchair.

In that moment, I knew this couldn't be the last season I wore the suit. It all felt so much bigger than me and so needed in this world. I knew they weren't reacting to me, to Pablo, it's not about me at all, but it is about bringing joy and all the positivity that comes with Santa Claus. Being Santa allowed me to give back to others in a way that felt so different than any other charitable work I've previously done. It felt like I was just pouring out my heart to each person and they were ready to receive. I have a hard time putting any of this into words that do the experience I had any justice.

I won't go into the details of my wife's work Christmas party, but it was a large crowd and a dramatic change of gear from the days' earlier events. It was all comedy, fun, and festive games.

After the party, I realized I've had nothing to eat all day, so I found a nearly empty Mexican restaurant to get some food to go. The entire staff came out to take pictures and were very pleasantly shocked that I spoke Spanish. One fellow, a rather imposing man, was telling me about the Christmas he had when he was 8-years old and the present he didn't get... as the conversation kept going, more of that little boy came out, and I saw less of the imposing man. Overall, it was an amazing ending to a wonderful day.

Since then, I’ve done many more visits, gone to Santa school at Northern Lights Academy, I’ve joined the International Brotherhood of Real Bearded Santas, and even got picked up by the National Santa Agency. I've had a good life and I'm generally very happy, but being a Santa has called to deeply and it’s been immensely fulfilling.