“Berle Shubert has played Santa for as long as I’ve been involved in the parade. Being the local pharmacist, he knows most all of the kids by name.”
“That would come in handy,” Madison agreed. “I can see where the kids would think he’s the real Santa, knowing their names and all.” She thought about the countless department store Santas she had taken the twins to see when they were young. Faced with an endless line of excited, noisy children, most of the costumed actors had been less than jolly. Not a one knew the children’s names, not even the Santas at the country club. Given the exclusivity of Gray’s favorite venue, the number of children visiting there with parents and grandparents was small; learning their names wouldn’t have been so difficult.
Each day she lived here, Madison was reminded of the differences between small towns and cities. Madison was the first to admit that when she first returned, it was the small things that had mattered most to her: no Starbucks in either of the towns, no mall, limited phone and internet providers, no home delivery from fast-food restaurants. Now, it was the big things that mattered: an invitation to have coffee in someone’s home, stores with clerks who knew you not only by your name but by your family’s history, a network of caring and helpful neighbors who shared information (particularly gossip) as quickly as any 4G carrier, and meals delivered by neighbors who knew you were sick or in need.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish