Our legend of Santa Claus has its roots in a monk named Nicholas who lived about 1750 years ago in what is now Turkey.  He was pious and kind; he gave away his inherited wealth and traveled the countryside helping the poor and sick.  His actions and temperament earned him sainthood, and he became known as a protector of children and sailors.

Even after the Protestant Reformation in Europe, when honoring saints became frowned upon, the Dutch continued to think highly of “Sint Nikolaas.”  They brought this adoration with them into the New World; in 1773, a New York newspaper reported Dutch families gathering to commemorate his death. 

Here things took a decidedly American turn.

By 1804, artwork depicted St. Nicholas leaving fruit in children’s drying socks over the fireplace.  In 1822, an Episcopal minister wrote a long Christmas poem for his daughters, in which St. Nick fattens up and rides home-to-home in a reindeer-driven sleigh filled with toys.

Shortly after, businesses started soliciting sales by using Santa in their newspaper ads.  A copywriter invented Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer to get people into department stores. Santa became the tool of consumerism, a mechanism to arouse children’s desire for things and seduce the rest of us into buy, buy, buying.

The god-fearing Saint was transformed into the god-less Santa. 

Let’s stop a minute.  That’s not exactly right.

Meet Carl Miller, professional Santa.

“I had a little girl come up on my lap one day, and she sat there, and we talked, and she told me what all they’re going to do for Christmas, and the cookies they’re going to make, and where everything would be when I come.  And then she turned to me and said, ‘Santa, do you know the real reason for Christmas?’  I said, ‘I sure do, and I worship Him also.’  [She said], ‘Oh, that’s so good,’ and she laughed.  Her mother was off to the side, I could see her.  And it wasn’t two hours later, the mother came back and handed me a $100 gift card for Starbucks.”

Carl Miller worked as a mall Santa for 13 years in Salem, Oregon, although his story begins and ends in Kalona.  And while this is an American story, filled with malls and money, Miller also has the heart of a saint.

“Starbucks was in the mall, so every week I treated the whole crew to Starbucks,” Miller says.  “They knew that Santa was making good money, and you’ve got to have charity.  You’ve just got to.”

“That’s why you do Santa Claus for the Sunday school classes and stuff like that,” he continues.  “We attended a large church, and every Wednesday night they had a meal and then Bible classes afterwards.  We went to dinner one Wednesday night, and kids and families were in the hall as we were walking out.  One of the girls who took care of the kids during Bible study came to me, and she said, ‘You know so-and-so?’ And I said, ‘Yeah.’ She says, ‘She came to us and said, ‘Santa’s here incognito!’’ And she says, ‘He is.  He comes to church here.’”

Miller grew up in our community, launching a career in automotive repair at the age of 12 by working for his uncle in Frytown.  In 1969, he moved to Oregon, where he started his own independent auto repair shop.  In 1972, he started growing a beard, though back then it was black.

“I’ve always done things that are kind of different,” he says.  “We moved to Oregon in ’69 and started a business.  And I went to Europe for six months and taught auto mechanics, came back, and did a radio show for six years every Saturday morning on cars.  That’s the kind of crazy guy I am.”

In 2003, he and his wife returned to Iowa to be near family, settling about 30 miles south of Kalona in Olds.  The couple would move back to Oregon in 2006, but not before Miller took a turn at being Kalona’s Santa, riding in a carriage in a used Santa suit.  It was his first public appearance as Santa, but it sparked something in him.

“I had so much fun with it that I went down to the local mall [when we moved back to Oregon],” Miller says.  “I said, ‘What do you do for Santas?’”

Shooting Star Photo needed a second Santa to sit for photos in the mall that season, and thus, Miller’s new career was born.  He joined the Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santas, a professional fraternity for American men who perform as Santa Claus, joined a local Santa group, and spent the next 13 years watching the children of Salem grow up before his eyes.

The business of being Santa

The business of being Santa is surprisingly complex.  First, you need a Sleigh-Driving License.

“I don’t know that you need it,” Miller laughs, showing the card that indicates his nine-reindeer certification and glasses restriction.

Next, you need complete Santa suits.  Two of them. 

“Sometimes the kids leak.  You get that warm-leg syndrome,” he says.

The right boots are important.

“I bought a pair of Santa boots and wore them a couple of times.  I didn’t like them,” he explains.  “I finally ended up with boots made of pigskin.  They’re leather, and they’re a little higher, and they’re more professional, I think.”

You need familiarity with trending toys.

“Every year I get the toy catalog and I go through it.  So, I try to keep up with what’s going on,” Miller says.  “It’s impossible to know everything, but I tried to [do some research] so that I was current when the kids came in.”

You must be comfortable with all ages.

“The youngest I ever held was, a lady came in, and she says, ‘I wanted to make sure you were here.  I want you to hold my baby,’” Miller recounts.  “I said, ‘When was the baby born?’ She said, ‘Two days ago.’”

“I had a lady come in with her mother.  Her mother was frail, about 100, I would say.  She came in and she said, ‘Do you mind if Mom sits on your knee?’” Miller says.  “I gave her a hug.  She was 102.  So, Santa’s good for everybody from 2 days [old] to 102.”

Sometimes, you have to know when to call security.

“One of the problems we had with one guy was that he would come in, and he would bring a camera and set up and want me to hold his kids a certain way.  He’d take a picture.  He’d never buy a picture.  Well, this is a business,” he says.  “We had a little problem, and I finally called security and asked them to remove him.”

And finally, you may need some help with wealth management.

“Being a mall Santa pays fairly well,” Miller says. “$40 an hour in the mall, and you’re working 8-hour days.”  For corporate parties, “$400 for an hour.”  And tips: “Over the 13 years that I spent in the mall, I probably had $3000 in tips.”

The joy and melancholy of Santa Claus

As you might imagine, Miller knows a lot about what people want for Christmas.  We humans retain our youthful innocence as long as we can, but eventually we face the harder truths of life.  Our requests for dump trucks and play makeup sets give way to deeper desires, some of which Santa has no power to satisfy. 

“A little boy one day came in, and he was with his dad, and he’d come in and we took a picture.  We talked, and finally I said, ‘What do you want for Christmas?’  Well, he gave me a list of stuff, and he says, ‘I’d like something for my dad,’” Miller narrates.  “He runs over to the gal behind the camera.  She’s kind of a looker.  He says, ‘Would you marry my dad, so I’ve got a mommy?’”

“And then one day I had a young guy. . . and he walked over to say, ‘Would you do me a favor?’. . . He hands me this little box,” Miller says.  When the young man’s girlfriend sat on Santa’s lap, “I said to the young lady, ‘What would you like to have for Christmas?’ And she says, ‘Well, I don’t know.’ And I said, ‘Do you suppose this would do?’ And he’s on his knees.”

“It’s amazing some of the things that happen, and sometimes it’s really heartbreaking,” Miller says.  “We had a lady come in one day, one of the last years I worked.  We had a reputation, [people would] like to come and they would talk to me.  And she says, ‘I just lost my son to suicide.’ I said, ‘Oh my.’  And I prayed with her, because that’s the only thing you can do.  I hugged her, and she said, ‘Thank you so much,’ as she left.  So that was some of the stuff that I’ve done.”

Epilogue

Miller’s days as a mall Santa may be behind him, but he’s happy to take on local Santa work now that he lives in Kalona, provided it doesn’t require an overnight stay.  He and his wife live in a cottage at Pleasantview, where Miller has responsibilities as a caregiver and cook, so he doesn’t like to spend too much time away. 

In fact, you may have already met him: he posed for photos and listened to gift requests at Christmas in Kalona on Dec. 3.

“I started in Kalona, and I’m ending in Kalona,” he says.

“I’ve had a good run, I really have,” Miller concludes. “And it’s been a lot of fun.  I’ve met a lot of wonderful, wonderful people.”

If you’re looking for a Santa for personal, corporate, or public events, contact Carl Miller at 503-428-2417. 

Santa’s Prayer

The sleigh was all packed, the reindeer were fed.

But Santa still knelt by the side of his bed.

Dear Father, he prayed, be with me tonight.

There’s much work to do and my schedule is tight.

My sack will hold toys to grant all kids’ wishes.

The supply will be endless like loaves and fishes.

I can do all these things, Lord, only through You.

I just need Your blessing, then it’s easy to do.

I do this only to honor the birth of the One

That was sent to redeem us, Your most Holy Son.

So to all my friends, lest Your glory I rob,

Please, Lord, remind them who gave me this job.