The beautiful simplicity of giving back
Reporter reflects on the sweetest of human gestures as readers help put Santa Fund over the top
I’m no Grinch or anything, but I would never describe myself as Mr. Holiday Spirit, either.
Funny what having a kid will do to you. Suddenly, for the first time since I left home at 18, eons ago, there’s a Christmas tree glowing softly in the front window of my own place of residence — a small one and an artificial one, but a Christmas tree nonetheless — and lights strung everywhere and a heap of presents and a palpable sense of excitement in the air because, you know, that’s what you do when you have a kid. I even bought a Santa hat this week.
It’s not as though Polly, who turns a year old on Jan. 3, will remember a shred of it when she’s older. But that’s what my parents did for me when I was a kid and, damn it, that’s what I’m going to do for my kid as long as there’s a breath left in this body of mine. Or as long as Polly — a wonderfully weird little creature who is the best and most transformative thing ever to happen to this aging punkrock raver — will tolerate it, anyway.
I’m lucky that I can do this for my little girl. I know that. Lots of families in this city don’t have the option of “holidayin’ ” it up at this time of year. Lots and lots of them. And never was that driven home to me more than the first time I went out on a delivery mission for the Star’s Santa Claus Fund.
As a Torstar employee, there is honestly not a more rewarding thing you can do with your time than to spend a volunteer shift or three packing Santa Claus Fund gift boxes — each of which contains a warm shirt, a hat and mittens, some socks, a book, some cookies, a toothbrush and toothpaste and, of course, a toy — in one of our warehouses or, better yet, running door-to-door with those boxes and actually putting them in the hands of children who might not otherwise get much of a holiday at all.
The first time I went out years ago I handed a stack of three boxes to a family of five living in a tiny highrise apartment in the Jane and Finch area and actually heard a little voice ask, “Was that Santa?” as the door shut quietly behind me. I burst into tears on the elevator ride down and swore I’d keep doing this every year for as long as I’m able to do it because I knew damn well that those kids likely weren’t getting much else, if anything, for Christmas that year.
So, yes, it’s rewarding to help out with the Santa Claus Fund, which has been going strong since Toronto Star founder Joseph Atkinson launched the charity in1906 and gets a gift to 45,000 children in need each year. But it’s also kinda heartbreaking at the same time. Not to mention eye-opening, since you don’t have to knock on too many doors to realize that a significant percentage of the disadvantaged folks who’ve been earmarked by social agencies as deserving of Santa Claus Fund support are new Canadians and people of colour. This city isn’t quite the great, pluralistic wonderland we like to think it is, nor is the wealth that’s driving up housing prices and spawning luxury condos being equally divided.
That’s why the Santa Claus Fund is as important as it’s ever been. Now that I have a child of my own, I think about how utterly gutted I’d feel if I wasn’t able to give her the kind of holiday experience she sees her friends at school or the idealized family units we see on TV enjoying. My Polly doesn’t want for a hat and mitts and warm socks and toys and a toothbrush, but too many children in Toronto do. They deserve to enjoy the holidays as much as all the children who don’t have to deal with the realities of economic racism or having parents who got laid off from their jobs or who can’t work because of injury or disability. And those of us among the “haves” in this town owe it to the “have nots” to give them a thought at this time of year.
As John Boynton, president of Torstar and publisher of the Star, put it to me rather elegantly earlier this week, “We’re only as good as the people we bring along with us. There’s no joy of victory in being too far ahead of everybody else and having a large divide. There’s no celebration of people who have money who leave everybody behind.”
So this is the part where I ask you to consider making a donation to the Santa Claus Fund. I’ve seen enough wee faces light up at the sight of those gift boxes that I can say, without hesitation, that giving to the Santa Claus Fund — or giving your time to pack those boxes and send them out into the world when the cycle begins again next fall — is one of the sweetest human gestures you can make during the holiday season.
“Everybody wants to give back to the community, and they want a very simple and very effective way of doing it,” says Boynton, who’s right when he remarks that you quickly realize “the depth of the income divide” in this town when you’re confronted with tens of thousands of gift boxes stacked ceiling high in a Santa Claus Fund warehouse.
“So many people are about to go through these next two weeks — all these kids — who won’t get to experience what we experienced when we were younger. It’s such a small thing for people to do and such a simple thing for people to do, such an easy thing for people to do. It’s very seamless, and it allows a larger percentage of the population to participate in giving back to the community they live in. Sometimes there’s beauty in simplicity in how you give back.”
The Santa Claus Fund hit its 2017 fundraising goal of $1.7 million, with $1,725,618 in donations. Barb Mrozek, the director of Toronto Star Charities and Philanthropy, said she wasn’t expecting “much of an avalanche afterward,” though the charity welcomes donations year-round.
It’s been a bit of a slow year. Things are tough for a lot of people out there. My Polly is one of the lucky ones, but you can be certain I’ll be putting her to work in one of those warehouses as soon as she’s old enough, so she realizes how lucky she is.
I’ll leave it to Mrozek to sum it up: “This is one of Toronto’s oldest charities for children. The premise has never changed, and that is to help the young ones who cannot help themselves. I know we’re not the kind of charity that provides a cure for major illnesses, but we do provide a bit of a cure and that is to provide a bit of hope in the gift box. It’s a memory that lasts them a lifetime, and it’s an impact that can never be taken away, letting a child know that they are cared for and they are thought of.”
Happy holidays.