My fake beard was itchy against my cheeks, but I refrained from raising a hand to scratch at it while I sang.

As the Christmas Carol ended, I smiled around at the other Santa's next to me, and they smiled back.

We all smiled at the people across from us. All of them dressed to the nines in Christmas sweaters,

lighted hats, curly-toed shoes with bells on them, and various other garish Christmas accessories. We all stood just outside the

gates of the small community in central Texas. The night was warm, but all of us were dressed in

cold weather clothing. My fellow Santas were all visibly sweating, but the other group,

the ones across from us and closer to the open gates,

seemed perfectly comfortable in their sweaters and long pants and hats and gloves.

Not a bead of sweat among them.

They each held a string of Christmas lights down by their sides, momentarily forgotten,

thanks to the eggnog a few of my fellow Santas were handing out.

Bless you all!

One of the community members said, raising to toast with her festive plastic cup filled with eggnog. Bless you and a Merry Christmas to us all.

All of us Santa's intoned and cheerful voices, raising our own cups of eggnog to toast.

We had already been holding our cups of eggnog when the gates opened

to reveal the group of festive community members and their strings of

dark Christmas lights. Silent night. Someone called out from the back of the crowd. A wave of

enthused agreement swept through the small crowd, ending with us Santas, arranged in such a way to

block their exit. We didn't want them venturing out into the adjoining neighborhood,

but we also didn't want them to know that's what we were doing.

Hence the Santa outfits and the eggnog and the singing.

It was all a distraction until the sedatives and the eggnog could kick in.

...