Something pleasantly pleasant

Today’s the feast day of Saint Nicholas, the Fourth Century Bishop of Myra who is the patron of Russia, Greece, children, sailors, unmarried women, merchants, pawnbrokers and charitable organizations. Nick has a lot on his plate.

These days we mostly know him in his secular guise: Santa Claus. He’s the jolly old Saint Nick who brings presents to good children. (In several European traditions, Saint Nicholas Day is when gifts are given, and the saint is often accompanied by a figure meant to be a Moor, therefore in blackface, who punishes the naughty children, sometimes carrying switches for the purpose. I don’t judge, it’s tradition. Like, I dunno, statues of Confederate generals.) The usual vehicle for signaling that you’re looking for presents is to leave out your shoes (a precursor, I guess, to hanging stockings with care.)

There are thousands of people who would like a visit from Saint Nicholas, or a sign that he’s aware they exist. Especially children; man—it takes so little to give a child joy. I’m thinking of Ukraine, but there are plenty of children closer to where you live whose lives you could brighten by a donation of a few dollars that go towards a toy and a couple of sweeties.

Here's a representation of Saint Nick in a shop window in Paris. I think it was a Scandinavian shop, but I don’t rightly recollect. This trio is stripped for action.

And here is the magnificent Louis Armstrong singing “’Zat You, Santa Claus?” Because we could use a little levity ourselves.

May all children—young and not so young—be granted attention from Saint Nicholas and his helpers around the world.