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An Existential Christmas

Wisconsin Life
Matt Geiger

I judge each child I meet based on her or his merits. I don’t always end up liking them, but at least those who receive my love have done something to deserve it. I’m not the only one who does.

On my daughter’s third Christmas, we marched her down to the Mt. Horeb public library to see Santa, a man famous for judging kids. Child after child plopped down on his lap to ask for an assortment of plastic things. Little did they know Santa wasn’t the only one judging them on that particular morning.

“Ho, ho, ho,” he said, really chewing on the limited dialogue. “What do you want for Christmas this year?”

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