A Visit to Santa’s House (in North Pole, Alaska)
Christmas, 2000

It was August 21st.
Standing at an outpost in North Pole, Alaska, I noticed a huge house with a cheerful red door.

I pondered… I wondered… I hoped… and knocked.

A white-haired woman with a child-like smile answered,
Welcoming me with chocolate chip cookies… still warm from the oven.

I stepped inside.
“Hi,” I said, “I’m –“
“Matthew Cummings,” she smiled, “from Michigan.
You’ve come to Alaska with all those other amazing bike riders.
I’ll tell you this, “ she said with a wink,” every one of you will have a fantastic Christmas!!”
She caught herself. “I’m sorry, I am Mrs. Claus. Are you here to see my husband?”
I blushed. “Is he here?”

Mrs. Claus beckoned me down a long candy cane striped hallway.
“Honey!” She yelled, “We have a visitor! One of those nice bicyclists!”
From around a corner, I heard a booming voice.
“Ho! Ho! Ho! How wonderful!”
My palms were suddenly slick with sweat. I was going to meet THE coolest guy on the planet!

And there he was.

He was a hearty man, standing 6 feet tall and weighing 275 pounds.
His bright, wavy white hair, mustache and beard were stunning.
He extended a warm toymaker’s hand.
“How do you do?” He said, beaming.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t say a word.
“Y-Y-You’re Santa!” I stammered.
Santa howled with laughter, his jelly belly rolling beneath his flannel
(I guess he already knew who he was).

“Would you like something to drink?” Santa asked, offering me a glass of Gatorade.
Numbly, I accepted, unable to take my eyes from him.
“So how do you like Alaska?” he asked, breaking the spellbinding silence.
I slowly came to my senses and smiled.
“I love it, Santa.”
“Nice clothes,” he laughed, commenting on my cycling apparel.
I grinned. Cyclists really do dress funny!

“Santa,” I said, “I’d like to ask a favor.”
He smiled warmly. “Of course.”
“This Christmas, instead of presents, could you give me the insight to provide my friends and family a Christmas writing that lets them know how much I love and appreciate them - not just at Christmastime, but all year long?”

Santa paused and pulled at his beard, seeming to search for the right words.
“Matt,” he finally replied, “they already know.”
He smiled, “How about if I order up some snow for your bike ride here in Alaska, instead?”
It was my turn to laugh. Like it would actually snow in August!

“Well,” I sighed, “I have to go ride my bike now. Thanks for everything, and thanks to Mrs. Claus for the awesome cookies.”
Santa shook my hand, and walked me to the door.
As he patted me on the back, he said, “Tell everyone I said hi, and make sure they know that I’m watching them, so they’d better be good… for goodness sake!”
“Okay, Santa, I will! Merry Christm - “

I turned around.

Santa was gone.

Santa’s house was gone.

In its place,
Laid a partially eaten chocolate chip cookie…
Still warm from the oven.