An unexpected gift arrived from a secret Santa. So secret, in fact, that you wouldn't know it if that Santa stood on your roof, with a flashlight, and smiled at you. Or that's how I remember it...


You see, down under, a balmy Christmas Eve was just right. This year, though, the forecast was gales and bucketing.


Olivia, my five year old, was at that perfect age of magic, missing a tooth, and belief in Santa. I unrolled the fairy-lights to hang while she belted about the most famous reindeer, lisp and all, keeping in step with Jim Reeves.


“Hey Oly,” my mum called her, ”help us bake the cookies, now would you?”


“Oooh, yeah,” Olivia squealed and raced to the kitchen where mum and wife were unstoppable. Poor Jim had to finish the song all by himself. 


Storm clouds rolled by in the afternoon threatening to wash away Christmas cheer. After lunch, Olivia dozed off while us grown ups got busy with last minute gift wrapping. I tested the lights and the tree again, hung some surprise decorations, and took out the rubbish for the fourth time that day. The clouds promised more rain, probably even hail. But nothing could rattle me today. 


A peek in the kitchen confirmed what the nose had suspected all day. I winked at Jane as soon as mum turned away. Mum still laughed. “Don't mind me.” It was during this banter that a sickening crash startled us.


I ran upstairs and a dent in the ceiling told me what I feared. Due to the late afternoon hail and winds, a huge branch from the gum in the backyard had broken through several roof tiles, and though the rain held, we now had a gaping hole. Olivia had woken with a start and was sobbing in Jane's lap as I tried to soften the bad news.


“Looks like we lost a few roof tiles, love!” I said with a poker face, “There’s a small hole up there now. I’ll ring the SES–”


Jane nodded with a frown of concern across her forehead. Olivia was a bit more upbeat. “Yay!” she cried, “Santa can come down from the hole!” Her innocence melted the anxious air.


The SES, a community-driven, emergency and rescue service, works against all odds, responding to calls of fallen trees, blown roofs, fences, and worse. Nevertheless, true to their reputation, the lady assured me over the phone that they’d come over sometime tonight. “It’ll be Christmas yet.” She signed off cheerfully.


The family mass at our local church was around five but I preferred a later one as it was easier for me to plant presents, *from Santa*. Tonight, however, I decided to stay back in case the SES came around.


“Daddy!” Olivia laid out the rules, “Put lots of cookies for Santa and reindeer, and a biiiig glass of milk.”


“Of course.” I smiled and nodded knowing she'd be asleep when they got back from Church with enough time for me to take a few bites of the cookies, drink some milk, and then spread some cookie crumbs around as evidence for Olivia.


***

I was still watching the good SES folks carry out temporary repairs to the roof when the family came back. Much to my surprise, Olivia ran up the stairs and I turned to lift her up.


Still panting, she pointed at the volunteer visible through the hole, his orange overalls and white beard lit by flashlight, and gasped. “Daddy look! Santa!!”


I laughed and called out to the volunteer. “Hey Nick, would you like some milk and cookies, mate?”


“That’d be perfect!” he smiled broadly, much to Olivia’s delight.