Hit the siren, Santa

Scott and I spent Christmas Eve riding along with the Laconia Police Department, delivering donated gifts to underprivileged children. The LPD accepts donations all year long for their "Family Fund", and hosts many fundraisers to benefit the charity. This year, over 1,000 families applied for the program, mostly broken homes and single mothers, some with as many as four children to provide for.

We jumped in the back of a SWAT van with a few friends, a costumed Santa and box upon box of wrapped toys, clothes and other presents. Each family received a number of gifts for each child - it often took three or four of us to carry them all into the home. Santa went first, scaring babies, taking pictures with the neighborhood kids and accepting homemade cookies.

I can't decide if the overall experience was more depressing or uplifting. Many of the houses were clearly unsuitable for children - filthy, smoke-filled (and not just cigarrette smoke), cold. And a good number seemed to be lacking in gifts, clothes or food for the kids - but they sure weren't lacking cases of beer, cartons of cigarettes, KFC take-out or flat-screen TVs for the parents. (I found out that any home with a plasma on the wall is likely to be removed from next year's approved list.) I fully expected parents would be grateful for what their community had done for them. A few parents, however, acted as if our visit was an intrusion. One woman literally opened the door while still on the phone, made a gesture for us to drop the boxes inside and turned her back on us while she kept on talking. All while her kid looked on from the other room, unsure whether she could come in and say hello to Santa. I mean, are you kidding me?

Many of these families are no strangers to the police - our escort told us stories of the calls he'd taken, and some of the things he's witnessed. It was absolutely heartbreaking to see the way many of these kids were living. And it was very difficult not to take the sins of the parents out on the children. I wanted to get in that rude mother's face and tell her we were taking all the damn gifts back, since she clearly could give a shit. But that's punishing the child, and that poor kid has it tough enough as it is. So we smile and hug and Santa does his schtick, and you hope that the next day, that kid has a happy morning opening presents that perfect strangers were generous enough to pick out for her.

They weren't all like that, though. There were homes where kids and parents alike were so excited, so happy to see us. One in particular will stay with me - one in particular made the entire long, cold evening worthwhile. The door flew open before we even made it up the stairs, the kids were going crazy screaming for Santa. While they attacked the presents, the Dad shook all our hands, and with tears in his eyes, told us about the tough time his family was going through. It was clearly difficult for him to accept this kind of a "handout", and yet he did, with quiet dignity, because he knew his children would have a better Christmas for it. He was so geniunely moved by the generosity, and so thankful that his kids had something to look forward to Christmas morning. These were good people working hard to provide for their children, and they were just in a really rough spot this year. And it felt so, so good to be able to help them out.

Part of me, selfishly, did this for the good karma. But the other part of me was ashamed of myself for thinking I should do something to give back, and then letting another year go by without getting off my ass and actually doing something. Scott and I are fortunate this year, perhaps more fortunate than most. And it shouldn't take a charity present run to remind me to be so profoundly grateful for all that we have.

Merry Christmas, to you and your families.

PS I totally got to work the lights in the SWAT van. I threw on the 360s, the red strobe AND the the right and left alley lights all at once. It was MAGICAL.