The real St Nick rescued little boys chopped up and pickled in brine. He saved them from the lunch table of a wicked innkeeper and restored them to unchopped boyhood, with presents. He saved little girls from dubious careers as insurance brokers by throwing coins through their father's window. He is even kind to thieves.
Above all, he gives the righteous good stuff. Usually in their shoes.
Since business has been bad, I thought I would put out the biggest clodhopper I could find. This morning, did I discover almonds, apples, spicy cake? Was there a shiny gold coin, left just for Halibut?
Had I a coal-burning stove in my cave, I might be willing to think generously about this.
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