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Perhaps she was correct. Perhaps that truly was the purpose behind my long-held custom - a purpose I had lost sight of over the endless march of years.
This insightful human had reminded me of the true gifts this season could bring - generosity, joy, connection. Gifts I had nearly forgotten until this serendipitous meeting tonight.
“Thank you,” I told her sincerely. And I silently vowed to honor the spirit she embodied on the remainder of my journey this Christmas Eve.
Noelle tilted her head, studying me curiously. “I have to ask...why don’t you look like the Santa I’m used to? You know, the little round belly, rosy cheeks, snow white beard?”
I chuckled, smoothing my false beard. “Ah, yes, the image your people have invented! A friendly, harmless elderly fellow. Much less alarming than my true form.”
I felt strangely compelled to show her. With a thought, I dropped the illusion. The padding around my middle evaporated, as did the wind-burnt mask covering my face. I stood before her in all my alien glory - seven feet tall, chest and shoulders rippling with sculpted muscles. My skin crimson, my eyes glowing faintly white.
Noelle’s mouth opened in a small “O” of surprise. I thought I detected a hint of something more in her gaze as it traveled across my revealed body. Appreciation? Intrigue? But perhaps wishful thinking on my part.
Before she could speak, propriety reasserted itself. What was I doing, exposing my alien self so freely? With an effort of will, I rewove the Santa disguise around myself once more.
Noelle blinked rapidly as if shaking herself from a stupor. I thought I glimpsed regret in her eyes at the return of my humanlike appearance. She tried to mask it behind a smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes.
“Well...that was unexpected,” she said breathily. “But it makes sense you wouldn’t actually look like the Coca-Cola version in those ads.” Her cheeks held a rosy glow that owed nothing to the winter chill.
I searched her face, unsure what to make of her reaction. Did she find my true form grotesque? Monstrous? Or had there been something more in her penetrating gaze? It disturbed me how much her opinion mattered, given we’d only just met.
Before I could untangle these discomfiting emotions, Noelle stepped closer and rested a hand lightly on my arm.
“You should know, Santa-” she grinned up at me “-that in the end, it’s what’s inside that counts. You have a good heart, no matter your appearance.”
Her sincere words chased away my doubts, filling me with renewed Yuletide spirit.
Noelle tilted her head, considering me with those intelligent brown eyes that saw so much. “I have to ask...why do you bring gifts to Earth children every year? Is it some intergalactic Santa tradition?”
I chuckled. “Not exactly. The role of ‘Santa’ is a relatively new invention, at least for my people.”
I paused, debating how much to reveal. But Noelle’s open curiosity tempted me to continue.
“You see, the Yulians have long been skilled toymakers. It is a great point of pride for us, passed down through generations. We find joy in crafting things that bring happiness.”
I gestured ruefully. “Alas, our population has dwindled over the centuries. We make far more toys now than Yulian children require. Thus, many precious toys went to waste...until we turned our sights to Earth.”
Noelle nodded thoughtfully. “So you found a whole new audience of kids to receive the toys.”
“Just so,” I agreed. “Your human customs around the Christmas season inspired us. Your people’s generosity and spirit of giving, even in dark times, renewed our own worn traditions.”
I refrained from revealing just how dire things had grown on Yule before encountering humanity. Some secrets were still mine to keep.
“And such imagination you have!” I continued. “Dolls that crawl, toy rockets to the stars...you gave us new ideas as well. Fresh ways to exercise our craft.”
Noelle smiled, eyes bright. “Well, I’m glad we could share some of our holiday spirit with you. And your gifts definitely bring joy to children everywhere!”
I returned her smile, a warm feeling spreading through me that this remarkable human approved of my unusual annual custom. Her generous spirit shone as bright as any Yuletide star.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Noelle said, “how long have you been doing this whole Santa thing? Were you, like, born into the role?”
I chuckled, touched by her natural curiosity. “No, I wasn’t born into the position. The role of Santa Claus was only taken up by my people about a century ago in your Earth years.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? That recently?”
“Oh, yes,” I replied. “We Yulians became enchanted by your human myths and traditions around this Santa figure. It inspired us to...bring some of that magic to life.”
I smiled at the memory of those first fledgling attempts so long ago. “Of course, much tinkering and preparation was required to pull off such an enormous feat. But once we committed to the endeavor, I was selected as the jolliest candidate to serve as Santa.”
