Santa's Helpers Aren't Elves

Walking across campus in my bright red Santa hat that I use to keep my bald head warm during this cold month, I attracted hoots and hollers from three construction workers from across a chain link fence.

"Give us your best Ho, Ho, Ho, Santa!" The biggest man of the group boomed to me with his pearly white smile. His two buddies grinning beside him.

"HO, HO, HO!" I bellowed immediately.

They applauded me with thumbs-up and an onslaught of "Merry Christmas's" from each of them.

Later, at the gas station, I was pumping my petrol when a man was returning to his work truck across from me. His hands were full of drinks and snacks. Looking at his dirty and exhausted face, his jeans and heavy work boots, I could tell he was a coming home from a physical hard day at work. I noticed his truck full of tools and ladders just about the same time he saw my hat.

He shuffled his items to one hand, smiled, and with his free hand he clenched, he nodded at me with approval and threw his fist to his chest.

"Keeping the Christmas real," he declared by beating his chest repeatedly, "Keep it real man."

"Merry Christmas!" I returned.

"Merry Christmas!" he echoed.