I brought my smile and lost my heart: The gift of Mrs. Claus

As a child, I regularly became Superman. Certain I could fly, I jumped off the front porch or from tree limbs. Come Christmastime, I became Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

As an adult, I haven't given up my penchant for secret identities, though I no longer jump out of trees or hope my nose turns red. Instead, I turn into Mrs. Santa Claus the second Tuesday of each December.

That's when I help out at the Crossroads Community Center's annual holiday party in Bellevue.

When it comes to holiday traditions, being Mrs. Claus rates higher with me than lights and Christmas cookies. This gig fills me with an appreciation of all that's good in the Eastside community.

I was a latecomer to the party.

Volunteers at Crossroads Community Center in Bellevue, observing the needy children who hung out there after school, started a meal program shortly after the building opened in 1981. In 1982 they added a holiday party. Through fliers and announcements in newspapers, they collected gifts to hand out to the families.

I got involved as a reporter about eight years later. It was one of the earliest examples to me of the power of the press. The usual donations hadn't come through and the holiday party was the following week. I wrote a story about Santa's pack being empty.

Kind-hearted people inundated the center with hundreds of gifts, from stuffed animals to cash.

A few years ago, the community center asked me to fill in as Mrs. Claus. All I needed to do, the staffers said, was wear a smile and a costume they provided.

I brought my smile and lost my heart.

Santa and I park our sleighs at a nearby fire station. Firefighters deliver us to the party in a firetruck, sirens and lights going.

Children are so excited to see us they break out of line and run to hug us, grab our hands, tug at our sleeves. Shy ones stand back, wishing to be noticed.

We hug, we wave, we smile and then we're led away to chairs in another room. We need the chairs because we're about to be on stage for the next two to three hours. The attendance runs about 1,200 at these annual events — usually half of the people are children. Santa and I talk briefly to each and every one.

Oh, the things that I have seen as Mrs. Claus!

It hasn't been all sweet or wonderful. One cold year families lined up outside the building. Children wore flip-flops or sandals with no socks. They had no mittens. Some had no coats. I would grab their hands briefly as they stood in front of us, trying to share my body warmth.

I've seen the look of hunger in children's eyes and pain in their parents' eyes. At times I wish for superhero powers so I could do more than wish them a Merry Christmas and hand them a candy cane.

I've seen teenage girls go from giggly to motherhood in one year — much too soon.

But the delights outnumber the sad moments. The children are overjoyed to see us. Sometimes they're dressed in their holiday best — girls in red velvet dresses and Mary Jane shoes, boys in dress shirts and ties, hair slicked back — which drives home to me the importance of this event in their lives.

I hate having my picture taken — always have. But on this one night I smile and pose with the children. I'm happy to be part of the background for treasured family photos.

Once the children and families have visited with us, they go to another room where each child is given an age-appropriate gift. The teens too old for Santa's lap but still young enough to wish receive movie passes, gift cards for music stores and electronics.

That pleases Helena Stephens, the director of teen and youth services for Bellevue Parks.

"It is a good feeling to help families through lean times. The gift they get at the Crossroads party may be the only gift the children get. That gift sometimes means the parents will have money to buy food and pay bills," she said. "It is a tradition that we're open to everyone in the community who needs an extra boost."

When I began, the crowd was dotted with Eastern European families, many of them refugees starting a new life here. In recent years, the new faces have included more Latinos and Southeast Asians, reflecting the changing diversity of the Eastside.

The Bellevue Parks and Recreation crew deserves accolades for this annual project. It always has been inclusive. Families from Auburn, Kirkland and Redmond are as welcomed as people from Bellevue.

What makes this event so magical is that it is repeated all around the Eastside, the region and our country.

Through many giving trees, foster-children gift programs, toy and food drives for social-service agencies, people like you who give often make a difference in children's lives.

Santa and I may get all the hugs, but all you wonderful people who donate deserve the credit for keeping the holiday spirit alive.

Bless you.

Sherry Grindeland: 206-515-5633 or sgrindeland@seattletimes.com