Santa Got Lost: A Wondrous Night in a Diner

Santa entered the diner. It smelled like toast; not burned toast, just toast. As if the diner had been toasting bread constantly. Which it had. Since 1979. It was a small and narrow restaurant with countertop seating on one side with padded, worn seats that signaled regular use. On the right were groupings of linoleum-topped tables, likely the same as they appeared when the diner began toasting toast. Two people sat at the counter facing the lone TV above the cash register; two groups of two sat at the tables, far enough apart to allow the waitress to move between them, but close enough to hear each other’s conversation. Which they did. But didn’t acknowledge.

Santa scanned the room, catching the eye of the waitress behind the counter. 

“Excuse me,” he said. “I, um, need some help…” 

“Good evening, my dear,” the waitress said, cutting off Santa. The waitress, Joni, had a friendly tone and a genuine smile. She pointed welcomingly towards the linoleum tables. “Just grab a seat, hon,” Joni added, fully conscious of Santa’s appearance—red coat, floppy hat, black boots, white beard—but she gave no reaction. The other patrons shifted their attention briefly to Santa, but drifted back to their conversations as if a large man in a red coat, floppy hat, black boots, and white beard was a regular occurrence at the diner. Which, oddly enough, was the case. A(nother) Santa from the store down the street popped in regularly to say hello to Fran, the other waitress, and grab his carryout pie order. The difference was that the latter arrived in a blue, four-cylinder Chevy Malibu; the former in a reindeer-pulled sleigh packed with presents currently parked in the alley around the corner.

“I’m not here to eat,” Santa said to Joni.

“That’s what they all say before sitting down,” said Joni, gently directing him to a seat near the front. Santa sighed an exhausted sigh and sat at the table. Santa was lost. He was lost on Christmas Eve.

Joni slid a well-worn menu in front of Santa. “Can I get you something to drink?“ she asked.

“No. No thanks,” replied Santa. “Um, I need some help with directions,” he said, unwilling to reveal the details of his plight. The particulars of this story, however, would become well known in the years to come in the form of a wildly popular Christmas song; a song that was covered by every famous performer, regardless of genre. Santa’s favorite version was the one by the J-Kids (the band formed of children of the once-popular Jonas Brothers). He rather disliked the harmonica version, despite its Grammy nomination. Right now, though, he was not concerned with his future music preferences. He had to finish the task he was born for, and do it quickly.

The TV was broadcasting the evening news with the newscaster showing a map with Santa’s presumed location. “He’s in the neighborhood, kids…” the newscaster chimed gleefully.

“Got that right,” whispered Santa.

“How about some coffee?” Joni asked more as a statement, not acknowledging the previous “no” as she poured coffee into a cup and set it gently in front of Santa. “We got some great pie as well.”

“As I said, I’m a little lost,” Santa said, taking a sip of the coffee. “Seems that my, um, GPS is malfunctioning and I’m not sure where to go.” Santa didn’t want to provide the details, but the explanation was pretty simple, though it was significantly romanticized in the aforementioned song. It’s easiest just to say “software update” and leave it to that. 

“Can you help me?” he asked.

Joni smiled a knowing smile.  

“Reminds me of the time I got lost one Christmas,” she began, putting one hand on her hip, staring nowhere in particular like she was visualizing the upcoming story. “I was heading to my aunt’s house for Christmas. She was quite ill, and I hadn’t seen her in a while—too long. She was a fun woman and it gave me lots of joy to be with her.” Joni paused, seemingly wanting to add more about her aunt, but she didn’t. 

Santa remembered Joni’s aunt. She was indeed a wonderful woman. Santa took another sip of coffee. The pie—a modest-looking apple pie—had also arrived via Fran. He took a small bite. Then another slightly larger one.

“She lived with her daughter, my cousin, well outside of town,” Joni continued. “As I drove that Christmas Eve, I found myself in the middle of a blinding snowstorm.” Joni had the coffee pot in hand and she poured a warm-up for Santa.  

“Now this was before GPS,” she continued, “so all I had was my memory from the last time I drove. I didn’t even pack a map. The snow was so heavy, I could only see as far as my headlights. I was truly blinded; had no idea what was around me.  

“I called my cousin on my old flip phone as I tried to navigate the road. It was really important for me to be there for my aunt. My cousin gave me turn-by-turn instructions as I drove, telling me, “When the road makes a large left bend, watch for the fallen oak tree, and turn down that road.” It was step by step. Even a road closing couldn’t stop me—I got there.”

Joni shifted her gaze to Santa.

“Something told me—like an internal compass—that I needed to be there,” she added. “It was a crazy path through the snow. But I got there with the support of my cousin. Without her help…”

Joni stopped talking and shifted her eyes to the TV. The anchor was providing another update on Santa’s location: “Looks like he’s just a few towns away, kids…”

“Yep,” added Joni. “You need a reason to go somewhere. And you need a map to get there. But often that’s not enough. You sometimes need help. Whether you know it or not.”

She turned back to Santa. “Ain’t that right?” She smiled, looked at the pie—which was nearly all eaten—and added, “How was that pie? Wondrous, isn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed, “ Santa replied. He took one last gulp of coffee and stabbed the pie with his fork for one last taste. It was indeed a delicious pie. He patted his pockets realizing he had no money (nor pockets), not usually needing any for this particular trip.

“On me,” Joni said with a wink.

“Thanks, Joni,” Santa said to Joni even though she never gave her name and her name tag was so covered in bacon grease and coffee splashes that most thought it read “Francisco.” Joni nodded, lost in a memory of the time her and Aunt Millie went to Cedar Point and rode all the roller coasters. “That was a terrific story,” Santa continued while adjusting his cap. “And I know just what I have to do.”

With that, Santa stood and slipped out the door. As he did the TV anchor cheerfully added another update: “Yep, he’s on his way, kids. Nothing will stop him because he’s got his reindeer and elves, and everyone tonight is thinking of him and his wondrous journey through the night…”

Notes:

I enjoy writing these Christmas-themed (leadership-related) articles. Inspiration for this one came from a breakfast with my daughter in a (you guessed it) diner in St. Louis.

Here are the previous years in case you missed them.

Christmas Stars Share Their 2024 Goals

Leadership Tips from Buddy the Elf: An Exclusive Interview

The Crisis at the North Pole: A Leadership Story that Went Down in History