A roadside Santa…just in the Nick of time.

By Jesse Oakeson (Guest Contributor)—

Before coming to my current job at Helpside in April 2019, I worked for years at a Salt Lake City law firm. During each of my ten holiday seasons at the firm, one of my law partners, Mike O’Brien, circulated a holiday-themed email to his co-workers. Mike’s writing almost always drew on his boyhood experiences working with the Trappist monks at the now-closed Abbey of Our Lady of the Holy Trinity, in Huntsville, Utah.

As is the case in many industries, work at the law firm seemed to speed up as the year-end neared and Mike’s emails were a thoughtful reminder to slow down and think about some of the lessons that our shared traditions were intended to teach us. Last week, I had an experience of my own that reminded me of Mike’s stories. 

Along the east-side frontage road between Lehi and Draper is a field sheltering a small herd of cows. Those of you who have noticed it know the pasture and its cows are stubborn holdouts against the explosive “progress” that surrounds it. Whenever I can, I like to drive that road with my windows down and pretend that I’ve gone back in time. Naturally, I took that road home last week after some shopping with my two oldest kids.

Just as the road turned dark, a stranded motorist waved us down. The old road had blown out the tire of the man’s BMW and, while trying to fix it, the driver managed to tip the car off the jack and into some deep gravel. The car was buried to the frame with the man’s car jack wedged underneath. As the driver and I stared pessimistically at the mess, a decades-old white suburban came onto the scene. Ladders were lashed to the roof and the opened rear doors revealed a variety of tools and equipment. This was clearly the car of someone who worked for a living.

In minutes, the driver of the suburban unloaded a floor jack, a crowbar, and a shovel. Having contributed nothing to the rescue and wanting to make a good showing for my boys, I quickly set to work alongside the stranded driver—digging an opening for the floor jack in the gravel and dirt. Within minutes, we had the car jacked up and the spare tire installed.  As I basked in the undeserved glow that comes with performing a job made possible by someone else’s generosity, I noticed that the good Samaritan had a real white beard, rosy cheeks, twinkly eyes, a red Hawaiian shirt, and a Santa hat.  

Up to then, I was sure Santa Claus was a myth. But as I helped this bearded character reload the gear into his past-its-prime car and listened to the Christmas music coming from its speakers, I was suddenly less sure.  Who else, but Santa Claus would be rolling along a foggy road with the exact tools we needed to get a stranded driver unstuck? Sensing the improbable nature of the story, I asked: “Santa, can we get a photo?” “Of course,” he responded.

Around this time of year, we often wring our hands about the distortion of the true meaning of the holidays (perhaps forgetting that they mean different things to different people). This sentiment is so well-worn that even the commercializing influences we blame for watering down the holidays have caught on and now exploit our nostalgic protests that something has been lost. They seem to say, “whatever the true meaning is, it certainly involves a bottle of Coke, or a new i-Phone (to use to make emotional films for our loved ones), or something that can be conveyed in an Amazon box, or new car, or a jewelry box.”

In a way, they’re probably right because the giving spirit of the holidays isn’t very hard to find. Last week, I found it on a roadside near a herd of cows. I’ve found it in Mike’s stories of the Huntsville monks, and I’ve found it most recently in the countless unsolicited acts of charity by my co-workers. This year, I hope you’ve found it along the way too. 

Happy Holidays!

*Jesse Oakeson is a lawyer and the General Counsel/Director of Human Resources of Helpside, a company based in Lindon, Utah that assists small businesses with payroll, benefits, human resources, and risk management services.