The Night a Child Met the “Real Santa”

On this episode of Our American Stories, Our American Stories listener Roger Latham grew up believing Santa was just a story—until one Christmas when someone unexpected changed everything. Roger shares the memory that helped him understand why kindness sometimes shows up in the plainest clothes and why he never forgot the man he came to call the real Santa.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:10):
And we continue with our American stories. And it's Christmas
season and we're delivering you Christmas stories. Next, we have
Roger Latham from Fort Worth, Texas telling us a Christmas story.
He's titled The Real Center. Let's take a listen.

Speaker 2 (00:28):
It was a Monday evening when, while driving home from
the office on a cold December day, I turned on
the local radio station, eager to listen to some Christmas music.
I heard being Seeing White Christmas, nat Offer Old Holy Night,
and Elvis paint the color of blue things fluffy snow.

(00:49):
It was great. Then came a break in the melodic
melodies of the season, and an announcer came on the air,
hope you all ready for a wonderful Christmas and that
our music is helping create the magic of the season.
One family in our city is, however, in need of
some help. He called in today and told us his

(01:12):
eight year old son asked Santa for a bicycle, and
then he had no money to buy one. Can anyone
help If there is a Santa in our audience, please call?
He gave the number. His words were a bold pulled
across my Christmas strata varius, and I called hello. I'll

(01:34):
provide the bike. Where's it gold? The man on the
radio thanked me and gave me the address. I scribbled
it on a scrap of paper in my front seat.
On the following Friday, as my eight year old son
and I were watching some television, my precocious ten year
old daughter entered the room and offered a grand pronouncement,

(01:59):
I figured it out. Her statement came with a strong
willed conviction of adolescence. Oh really, what if you figured
it out now, darling? There is no Santa. It's you
and mom. I glanced at my son to Gage's reaction.
The look on his face portrayed a mix of shock, concern,

(02:22):
and a touch of panic. His older sister had just
violated the ancient rules of Santa Claus. I had to
think fast, Being a salesman by trade and well versed
into spelling the objections of the disbelieving, I mustered a
quick retort, Sweetie, you're wrong Sata Israel, and I'll introduce

(02:44):
you to him tomorrow. She scoffed with a snort and
left the room. On Saturday, I loaded the family of
my Honda and we headed to the Northeast mall. As
we entered sears. Candy said, I've already been to see
this Santa. I remember I sat on his lap told
him what I wanted. That's not the real Santa, I said. Okay, now,

(03:10):
you kids, go pick out the best boy bike you
can find, one that an eight year old boy about
your brother's size would like. In ten minutes, they returned
with a shiny red bike sporting a banana seat and
raised handlebars. How's this, dad, my son asked, Do you
like it? That's all that matters. Now go pick out

(03:31):
another nice gift you'd like to receive from Santa. They
scurried off and picked another present and returned with a
large remote control truck. I paid for the merchandise and
we headed to the car. It was time to make
our way to the classroom and a tutorial on the
real Santa. The apartment complex was easy to find. It

(03:54):
sat in the sedious part of Arlington, Texas. The cars
parked on the street were to lapids in desperate need
of major dent repair and gallons of paint. Upon finding
the right address, I parked and loaded the vehicle of kids,
bike and truck. Okay, daughter, you rolled a bike and
let your brother carry the truck arriving at the apartment door.

(04:18):
I knocked moments past, and a man the size of
a Dallas cowboy lineman must have been six foot five,
two hundred and ninety pounds swung open the door. Boy,
you lost or something? This ain't exactly You're part of town.
His gruff tone softened as he noticed the bike. What's that?

(04:41):
A babe in a manger sent me over and told
me to bring this bike, I said, I motioned for
my son and disbelieving daughter to deliver the bike in
the toy. As they did, the giant man, whose name
I never learned, seemed to melt before my eyes tears
down his face, and he hugged me. Then the kids,

(05:04):
Thank you, sir, this is a fine blessing. He then
turned to the kids, thank you too, my little ones,
and Merry Christmas. His voice broke without further discussion. Santa
and his troop of elves bidit a merry Christmas ide
and headed back to the car. With everyone now installed

(05:24):
and buckled in, it was time for me to finish
the lesson. So, dear daughter, is Santa real? Her eyes
were teary and she stammered, yes, yes, yes, Daddy, it's you, no, Swittie.
Santa Claus is a spirit dwelling in every man and

(05:46):
woman of good faith who do for others that which
they cannot do for themselves. One day, I expect you
and your brother to show the world your Santa. My children,
now in their forties, still believe and will one day
teach my grandchildren how about today they met the real Sannah,

(06:07):
passing on their understanding of Christmas, the real Christmas. Merry
Christmas to all and made the spirit of Sannah bless
us all this year.

Speaker 1 (06:18):
And a great job on the production by Greg Hangler,
and a special thanks to Roger Latham from Fort Worth,
Texas for sharing this story. And we can see it,
we can conjure it in our heads. That is the
power of spoken word. In the end, the pictures are
better because they're yours. And that moment where the sort

(06:38):
of gruff guy just starts breaking down and crying and
then going back to the car and asking his daughter
his kids, is Santa real and that daughter with tears
in her eyes saying yes, yes, yes, and the ending
it's so beautiful. I expect you and your brother to
show the world your Sanna and my goodness yes, the

(07:00):
American people. We show our Sana to the world every year.
Four hundred and fifty billion dollars a year we give.
That's more than the GDP of almost all the countries
in the world. But for thirty and we give away
even more impressively nine billion hours of our time. The
story of Roger Latham, the real Sanna. Here on Our

(07:24):
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(07:46):
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