There it was, the question that froze me in my tracks.

We had met the family – our grown children, Jack and Sarah (both married to their respective spouses and with kids) and Rachel, our “still single” youngest (as Gladys likes to describe her, making her impatience regarding Rachel’s marital status clear to anyone who will listen) – for a weekend camping trip and were sitting around the fire ring enjoying a little post-dinner conversation.

Joshua, Sarah’s four-year-old, had thrown the question out there.  Obviously, Santa Claus was uppermost in his mind as we approach the holiday season, and I’ve got to admit, it’s a fair question if you think about a child’s understanding of Santa’s logistics problem on Christmas Eve.  RVs move around pretty frequently. How does Santa Claus deliver toys to kids who live in RVs?

As I stalled for time trying to formulate a response, our son Jack, winking at his two siblings, said, “You know, Joshua, that’s a very good question but don’t you worry.  Pawpaw is the one to ask because he’s got the answers to everything.”  Then he proceeded to remind his two sisters of my explanation years before when they were little as to why the dog I’d had as a kid, “Nipper,” had been able to run so fast.  “Remember what he said?  ‘Jackie, Nipper’s back legs were longer than his front legs so it was like he was always running downhill!’”  Well, of course, that gave rise to a round of laughter, but I noticed that Joshua, along with the other kids, were not-so-patiently waiting for a response to his still-unanswered question.

So, as Gladys passed around a tray of hot cocoa, I said, “Joshua, I’m glad you asked that because I heard tell that up at the North Pole every year, Santa puts one elf in charge of making sure he knows where all the little boys and girls who live in RVs are going to be on Christmas Eve, and he’s got a list of all the toys they’ve asked Santa for.  And that elf’s name is…Arvie!  He’s even got a little name tag right on the front of his green elf suit.  And guess what?  Because he has to get around all over Santa’s workshop to gather the toys for those children all by himself, he’s the only one who gets to wear roller skates every day!

The grandkids were sitting around on the ground in front of me while I related this information but out of the corner of my eye I saw my wife and three grown children looking at me with expressions that could be interpreted to mean “He’s really full of it and we don’t mean cocoa.”

Not one to be discouraged in a situation like this, I continued.

“Then, on Christmas Eve, when all the children are asleep and Santa is winging his way around the world, he’s got that special list Arvie has given him.  It has the name of every child who’s in a camper or a motor home or a trailer and it has up-to-the-minute information about exactly where all those children are camping. You see, it’s a separate list from the one that has all the kids who are in houses.  Now where was I?  Oh, yeah, and as his sled flies around the world, every time he’s directly above one of those RVs, a bell on his sleigh rings three times to let him know it’s right below him. And he swoops down and lands.”

Then Carrie, Jack’s five-year-old, piped up.  “But, Pawpaw, how does he get in the RV if there’s no chimley?”

And I said, “You know, Carrie, that’s a really good question, but I’m afraid I don’t know the answer.  Tell you what…why don’t you ask your Daddy?  He’s real smart!”