Albert's Christmas Journey 🎄 3rd Letter
The origins of Santa Claus - an evening with Saint Nicholas
My friend living in the future,
This time, I didn’t travel far – neither in time nor distance. I’m writing to you from Myra, a coastal town in the heart of Lycia. So I’m still in modern-day Turkey, which, during this time, is part of the Roman Empire. I‘ve also traveled only 5 years further into the past, as I’m writing from the year 320 A.D. – in fact, the person I’ll tell you about might have been present at the Council of Nicaea himself, though I didn’t notice him last time.
It’s early morning as I write you these lines. A salty breeze blows from the Mediterranean Sea and I can think about what I witnessed yesterday, when I met I met Nicholas, the bishop of Myra. I didn’t recognize him at first, as his appearance was not what I expected from a man of his status. He’s humble and dressed simply as he walked down the streets. By the way people greeted him, I could tell he’s deeply respected here.
Nicholas was born to a wealthy family in nearby Patara but chose a life of service to others after losing his parents at a young age. He used his inheritance to help those in need without drawing attention to himself. This humility made him beloved by the people around him, and it is at the core of the legends that will carry on until your time.
As I saw Nicholas pass by, I decided to follow him. He went through the narrow alleys toward the edge of town, where he stopped outside a small, crumbling house. I later learned that a father and his three daughters inhabited it. Their story is a sad one. The father, once a respected tradesman, had fallen on hard times. With no money left, he was unable to provide for his daughters. He was also unable to provide dowries, leaving his daughters no chance to get married. Nicholas had heard about this, which is why he came out here.
In the darkness, he took a small bag of gold coins and tossed it through their window. For a moment, there was silence. Then I heard the father’s voice, startled and confused, followed by footsteps. A lamp flickered on inside, and I saw the shadow of the man as he picked up the bag.
“A miracle”, he screamed as he realized what was in the bag. He called for his daughters, and as they huddled around him, I could see their expressions shift from confusion to joy. Nicholas, however, didn’t show himself. By the time the family started looking out of the window, he had already left.
I caught up with him a little further down the road. “Why not let them know it was you?” I asked. He smiled and kept walking. “It’s not about me,” he said. “It’s about what they needed. God’s hand often works in quiet ways; I’m just a tool.”
Moments like this have cemented Nicholas’s place in history. After his death, stories of his deeds spread throughout the Christian world. Sailors carried his legend across seas and into new lands. He became the patron saint of children, sailors, and the poor, and his feast day, December 6th, is still celebrated widely in Europe. Children will place their shoes by the fireplace, hoping for small gifts in the morning.
Over time, as cultures blended, Saint Nicholas evolved into the figure we now know as Santa Claus. His story was brought to America by Dutch settlers, where Sinterklaas (who still delivers the presets in the Netherlands) became Santa Claus, who’d eventually turn into the jolly, red-suited man we love today. But if you strip away the modern decorations—the sleigh, the reindeer, the towering Christmas trees—what still remains is the heart of Nicholas’s story: a man who gave selflessly to help those in need.
As I reflect on what I’ve seen, I wonder what Nicholas would think of his modern portrayal. Perhaps he’d smile at the joy his story still brings, but I think he’d also remind us that the true spirit of his legacy lies in simple, quiet kindness; to recognize someone’s needs and act—not for glory, but because it’s the right thing to do.
This Christmas, let’s remember that spirit. Whether it’s a kind word, a helping hand, or a small gift, a simple, thoughtful, and selfless act can make a difference.
The sun is higher now and the market starts buzzing with life. I’m getting ready to leave the Roman Empire for a while now, as I fell.I’ll be much closer to you in time next week.
Until next time, where- and whenever that might be,
Albert
🧳
PS: Why not receive the last story as a real letter? Making the finale even more special!