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    Old Single Santa! That’s how I think of him.

    Homeless people seem to congregate in the center of the city. Not this guy. He shuffles behind a shopping cart with a squeeky wheel, in one of the most affluent areas in Austin. His home is close to the Arboretum — near the bigtime stores with heavy bronze and glass doors. You’ll see him if you drive around this part of town. He sure seems out of place going past the nice schools, the big church buildings, and trendy restarants where a twenty dollar bill is considered a yuppie lunch coupon.

    Old Single Santa wears a big coat most of the year. He has a long unkempt beard. OSS pushes a shopping cart most places he goes.

    One cool evening, my daughter and I were out for ice cream. When he shuffled past, hunched over his cart, only his beard was visible beneath the hood of his dingy parka.

    “Is that Santa Claus, dad?” my daughter asked. “No sweetheart, that’s a man who doesn’t have a home,” I replied.

    “Why doesn’t he go home to his family?”

    “He may not have a family or they may not let him come home.”

    “Why doesn’t he go to his friends?”

    “He may not have any friends.”

    “Then he better go to his church!”

    “He may not go to any church.”

    My daughter munched on Butter Brickle ice cream and I could tell her wheels were turning. This child has lived constantly in the loving glow of family, friends, and church. She could not envision a life without these things. She could not envision being truly alone.

“I was hungry and you gave me something to eat...”

    Later, I sat in my nice office with a fresh cup of hot coffee, with warm socks and shoes, comfortable warm cotton and wool clothes, a nice desk, chair, and computer. I gazed around at my Bibles, my books, and the embarrassment of riches that I am privileged to enjoy. I pulled out my New Testament, and read, “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in” Matthew 25:35.

    My office is blessed with a floor to ceiling window, and the December sun made a dancing shadow on my wall through oak leaves as I thought about these words. Here I am, so blessed in spite of all my problems (and believe me, I have many). Instantly a plan came to mind. I can’t fix world hunger, political unrest, I can’t even program my VCR. But, I can make a difference to one Old Single Santa!

    This Christmas the old homeless single santa is going to receive some good food, warm clothes, and a little Christmas cheer. You see, I know where he lives. Old Single Santa has a little tent and a campsite in a treefilled median just off the highway. I’ve caught a glimpse of it as I’ve driven by on my way to church. He will probably be surprised to be aproached by a man and his daughter, arms filled with new good warm things to eat and wear. He may resist, or he may go into shock, or... I don’t know.

    All I know is this; I have to give it. My daughter has to see me give it. You see, I will stand before Jesus someday, and he won’t ask me how well tuned my theology is. He won’t ask me how many services I’ve attended, how many lessons I’ve taught, or how many correct positions I’ve held in doctrinal debates. He will will ask, “Did you do it unto me?” I just want to make sure, just in case, in some wild event he brings up one particular homeless, Old Single Santa, that I can say quickly, “You know Lord, I’m glad you mentioned that. My daughter and I...”

    Make it a good holiday for some Old Single Santa.