Subject: Santa Gets Sober
I am an alcoholic; my name is Nicholas. You can call me Nick for short.
I always knew I was different from other kids in my neighborhood. See,
I was born with this beard, and instead of having a dog like the other
guys, I had reindeers for pets.
Most kids like to get things, but I always gave, whatever I had. That
made me happy and I hoped people would like me. My mother always told
me, "Don't worry, someday people will look up to you."
But I was lonely, with no one to talk to except the reindeer. I had
problems going to sleep at night when I was in high school, just tossing
and turning and thinking about my future. That's when I discovered that
a little glass of wine at night would help me sleep.
Soon I was sleeping real good, but after a while I needed more than just
a little glass; I needed a big glass to produce that blessed sleep.
Things continued like that for a while. I functioned fine during the
day, but nights were a different story. That's when the wine took over.
During this time, I got a job, and I really, really liked it. I was
helping this old guy deliver toys and presents on Christmas. This fit
right in for me, because I always liked to give and now I could do it
professionally, and people would like me more.
I didn't have a car or a truck but I could use that big old sleigh that
was out back in the barn. I could even have my friends the reindeer pull
it. I was sleeping better, so I stopped drinking at night. Everything
was going great. I even met the Mrs. Her name is Sara -- what a
wonderful woman.
She made cookies and candies for me to bring with the toys on Christmas.
Life was great until the old man died. There went the job. But Sara
said, "Why not continue? You do a good job, you know what you're
doing."
So I kept doing what I loved best -- delivering presents on Christmas.
But during the slow season I was bored, so I started hitting the eggnog
and the fruitcake that Sara made (it had all that delicious brandy in
it). Guess what? Sara started to change. She began to nag: "You never
do
things around the house anymore." She even had the nerve to hint that
I
was slightly intoxicated sometimes.
I worked so hard, I figured I deserved all the enjoyment I could get.
What harm could a little eggnog do, or a couple of brews with the local
elves?
Then the reindeer began giving me trouble. They were annoyed because I
had gotten lost one Christmas eve. It had nothing to do with the fact
that I'd had several hot toddies during the trip. It was all that snow
-- anyone would have gotten lost.
So I got myself a new reindeer to lead them, a guy with a bright red
nose.
He could set his radar and get us anywhere, and I could continue doing
my thing with no problem.
That is, until one night I got pulled over by a state trooper. I told
him who I was and he said, "Sure you are," and charged me with
driving
while intoxicated.
Things were getting most unpleasant. I was mixing up the toy lists. My
wife wasn't talking to me. The reindeer weren't happy. My head hurt
every morning. And I was having problems parking the sleigh on rooftops.
I even tried the geographic cure -- we moved to the North Pole. But
things didn't change.
Then one Christmas Eve, in my usual stupor, I parked sideways on this
one roof and I had a terrible time getting down the chimney. In fact,
I went headfirst, and now I really needed a drink.
So when I got into this house, I started looking around for some booze.
But there was nothing, just those rotten cookies and a glass of milk.
How I hated the taste of milk by that time.
Couldn't someone take pity on me and leave me a nice hot toddy with rum!
After all, it was so cold out there in the sleigh. I guess I was banging
around and making too much noise, because I woke up this guy.
He came downstairs and asked if he could help me.
"Help me? Sure. Where do you keep the booze -- I need a drink."
The guy said there wasn't any because he didn't drink. I wondered what
kind of a person I was dealing with. He must be a real nut.
Then he started to tell me that he had drunk in the past but it caused
him so many problems that he didn't drink anymore. I was interested in
that. I wanted him to give me his magic formula and he said it was
simple.
"I don't drink one day at a time."
He also said, "I go to meetings, I keep it simple, I read the Big
Book,
I carry the message -- and that's how I stay sober."
At that point I was so sick and tired of being sick and tired, I was
willing to try anything. I wasn't sure if there was a meeting at the
North Pole, but this guy told me I could start one.
Before I left, the guy gave me a book which he referred to as the Big
Book. This was my first present -- I had always been the giver and
never
let anyone give me anything. I asked him to write something in the book
for me, and this is what he wrote:
Dear Nicholas,
Merry Christmas!
Your friend,
Bill W.
And that's how Santa got sober. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a
good night.