How Old Is Santa Claus?

How old is Santa Claus?

Oh, dearie-dearie. My favorite question in the whole mailbag. Children ask it more than any other question except one.

The other one is about bathrooms on the sleigh.

(That one’s a secret!)

Santa is no help at all. Ask him his age and he chuckles and taps his nose.

Pour yourself a cocoa, and I will tell you a story.

Santa is old

Santa is older than your grandparents. Older than their grandparents, come to that. The job of being Santa is more than 1,750 years old. I checked the number twice, once on an abacus. The abacus and I are about the same age, and neither of us is telling.

But the man by my fire right now, snoring with a corgi on each foot?

His age is a different question.

About a boy named Nicholas

A very long time ago, around the year 270, a boy named Nicholas was born in a little town by the sea. Nicholas had three things: a big heart, a bit of gold, and excellent aim.

Nicholas loved to give his gold away, but only in secret. There is a rule about this, older than Santa himself: a gift given in secret weighs twice as much.

So he tossed his gold through windows at night. One bag sailed clean across a room and landed plop! in a stocking drying by the fire. That is why we hang our stockings up to this very day!

(I get Christmas presents, too, you know. Otherwise, Santa gets no cookies.)

Nicholas grew up to be a bishop looking after a whole town, and he never stopped giving. People loved him so much they never stopped telling his story.

That story grew, and traveled, and soon, Santa put on a red coat.

Red is a fine color on a man, don’t you think?

How the reindeer led him home

The giving grew, too. One town became ten, then a hundred, then a thousand! One pair of hands was never going to be enough. Can you imagine wrapping presents for the whole world by yourself?

The paper cuts alone!

Santa went looking for help, and help found him.

The reindeer came first. Reindeer are the only creatures alive who can find the top of the world in the dark. They led him north, past the last town, past the last tree, past the very last line on the map.

And there he met the elves, who had lived at the top of the world all along, making beautiful things. They looked at his list, called it thirty-seven armfuls, and rolled up their sleeves.

And then there is the cold.

It is so cold up here, so still and white and deep, that time gets drowsy and forgets to pass. Aging freezes right along with the icicles hanging from the streetlamps. That is why Santas and elves and reindeer live as long as they do.

It does wonders for the wrinkles, dearie-dearie. I have looked the same charming age for longer than I will say.

So he built a home at the top of the world. He built the kitchen first, for the first Mrs. Claus.

The man has always known where his bread is buttered.

Santas pass the sleigh

Now then. Here is a North Pole secret very few books will tell you, and I trust you to keep it kindly.

Santa is a title, the way Captain is a title on a ship. When a Santa grows old, even by North Pole counting, he finds someone with exactly the right kind of heart, and he passes the sleigh.

Not a torch. Goodness, no!

He passes the sleigh, the coat, the hat, the list, and the great brass key to the stable. Also, one small blue mitten. Nobody knows why. Nobody remembers that story.

Maybe Longwinter, the Keeper of the Great Ledger, knows its story. We keep meaning to ask him, but Santa is a little afraid of Longwinter. He won’t admit it, you know. The man delivers presents to the whole world in one night and cannot knock on a library door.

My dear Santa is a hardworking, loving man, but no one ever accused him of being a scholar.

All the same, Santa tied the small blue mitten on a piece of yarn and wears it around his neck, tucked under his red coat. The corgis have tried to claim it as a chew toy for fifty years. Santa keeps it safe!

So how old is MY Santa?

You would think his own wife would know.

You would be wrong!

His beard was white as fresh snow the day I met him, and he was already saying he was old enough to know better and young enough to do it anyway. He still says it.

So no, dearie-dearie. Even I cannot give you a number.

He is old like a mountain is old.

Older than old

Here is some counting you can do at home. The job of Santa is:

• Older than Christmas trees, which came along about 500 years ago
• Older than candy canes, which are about 350 years old
• Older than Christmas cards, which are not even 200 yet
• Older than forks. For most of Santa’s life, people ate dinner with their fingers! Santa still does, when he thinks I’m not looking.

Add up the tree, the candy cane, and the card. All of them together still come up short. I do enjoy that.

Questions children ask me

Is Santa immortal? No, dearie-dearie. The cold up here freezes aging itself, so Santas live a wonderfully long time. But even a frozen clock ticks. No Santa goes on forever. That is why the sleigh gets passed.

Was the first Santa a real person? Yes. Nicholas was as real as you are. He lived by the sea, he gave in secret, and people have told his story for seventeen hundred years. Not bad for a boy who never wanted to be noticed.

Will our Santa ever retire? Someday. A long, long time from now. Every Santa does. Do not worry: the whole point of passing the sleigh is that the sleigh always flies.

How old are YOU, Mrs. Claus?

I will only say my favorite carol is older than your country. I learned it from my grandmother, who learned it from hers.

One more thing before you go

Santa writes real letters, you know. Paper and ink and a stamp, twelve months a year, to children who would like them. If that sounds like your kind of magic, ask a grown-up to peek at how it works.

Tell them Mrs. Claus sent you!

And no, mistle-toes, I still will not tell you about the bathroom on the sleigh.

Off to bed now, mistle-toes. The cocoa pot is calling.

With love by the fire,
Mrs. Claus