He was born in the third century, in the village of Patara, part of modern-day Turkey. The only son of wealthy parents, he took an active interest in Christianity from an early age. When his parents died of an epidemic, the young boy came to be raised by his uncle, a bishop.
So it only natural the boy, too, would become a bishop. Dressed in a robe of red, he diligenty watched over those in his care. He was known for his kind and generous spirit, using his inheritance to help the poor, leaving anonymous gifts to those who needed them most.
It was his heart of giving that earned him his sainthood.
Of course, as so often happens of ordinary men, who become extraordinary saints, stories of his feats and wonders grew with each passing year . . .
Before long, he was not only attributed to signs and wonders, but magic. His red robe became lined with fur. He took up residence at the North Pole, adopted 8 reindeer, and a factory of elves. And his little round belly . . . it shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
So it was that Nicholas came to be known around the world as Papai Noel | Tomten | Shengdan Laoren | Viejo Pascuero | Sinter Klaas | Father Christmas | Joulupukki | Pere Noel | Kanakaloka | De Kerstman | Mikulas | Winter Grandfather | Babbo Natale | Hoteiosho | Kaledu Senelis | Kerstman | Julenissen | Swiety Mikolaj | Julenisse | Kris Kringle | El Nino Jesus.
Or simply, Santa Claus.
Have you ever read Neil Gaiman's rendition of Santa? I've posted it on my blog and it's one of my favourites
I love this simple retelling of history. Love it!
My recent post Celebrating…