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The next few weeks were a blur.
The Widow Missus visited the library frequently. She brought the red velvet Santa suit the town had purchased for the Festival for him to try on. He changed into the suit in his office, and then stepped out the door for her approval.
She shook her head. “Needs a little padding. You’re too thin.”
She reached over and grabbed a pillow off of the couch where the library patrons would sit to read the papers and magazines. “Try this.”
He went back into his office, stuffed the pillow under his shirt, put the jacket back on and stepped out again.
“Much better,” she said. “Now let me hear your ‘Ho Ho Ho.’”
Mike took a breath and let out a deep “HO HO HO.”
The Widow Missus was impressed. “Very good.”
“I’ve been practicing.”
“Now, do you know what you’re going to say to the children?”
Mike paused. “Merry Christmas?” he said, tentatively.
“That’s a good start. But you need to find out what they want for Christmas. Their parents will be nearby, listening: that’s one way they find out what their children want. And be sure to address each child by their name. You can ask their name once, at the beginning, but don’t you dare forget it until they’re off your knee and gone. Using their name makes each one feel special.”
Mike sighed. He’d never remember all of this.
“I know it sounds difficult. But once the child is there with you, focus on them. Janet will take care of the others. You only have to deal with one child at a time.”
She smiled at him. “You can do this, Mike. I have faith in you. I always have.”
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