We had our annual chat with Santa Claus today. And, like last year, it was so nice. Santa, for those of you who don't know, has a small cabin at the Royal Botanical Gardens and we like to visit him there. So do about 3,742 other people. On the same day as us. Which means long lines and wait times. But our kids did pretty well, with a woodland fairy wandering around to entertain and trees to look at and reindeer to pet. The woman behind us, however, did not do very well. Complain, complain, complain, we're never coming here again, complain, complain, complain. Gee whiz, lady. Anyway, after getting through the line, into the cabin, and up to the front, we had our visit with Santa. And it was lovely. Perhaps he had no concept of the long line of people waiting to see him, perhaps he didn't care. What he did care about was the kids, and spending enough time to gently talk with each one, to make them feel comfortable (okay, he tried but it didn't work with Annie), and to make them know they are special, just like Santa should. He was just so nice. After our visit and our walk back through the gardens, I told Joe and Henry that Santa can teach us a lot about peace and patience. We hurry (and maybe whine) through the season and the malls and the waiting in traffic and waiting in line but then... we are just given time and peace and a smile. And it felt so nice. I know - they know, too - that that's what Jesus does for us, that He's the reason we celebrate. But it's also nice to get that feeling from our friend St. Nicolas.