Victoria is a 22-year-old living in Toronto, Canada. By day she goes to school and every other free time she has, she spends it doing odd jobs to make as much money as she can, so she doesn’t have to be super dependent on her parents. The first year she moved to Canada she was lucky enough to get a deal for a house she has lived in ever since. That first year she noticed the old man next door was always alone so she decided to surprise him with a gift.
I have a confession.
I am my neighbour’s secret Santa.
Let me tell you about it.
I moved to Canada about 7 years ago. I moved because of uni. I got accepted to the University of Manitoba. I was ecstatic. Finally, I get to leave this horrible Nigeria and start my life somewhere else. “Somewhere better.” There’s a lot to get into there. My mindset at the time and my mindset now but I want to tell you about how I made family here, not horrible things. I came to Canada beyond excited. I already had plans about the kind of life I’d live and the people I’d meet. I’d planned how I’d do in school, the boys I’d date and so much more. What I never imagined is how lonely I would be. There were almost no friends and definitely no boys. People stuck to themselves and races kind of cliqued together. I had to find Nigerian people to relate with. Though that wasn’t hard, I had very few friends outside my “country people” and in all, I was very alone.
I weirdly don’t stay in an apartment. Well, I did. My first six months in Canada were spent in an apartment but I eventually had to move. I stay in a house with 3 other people. It’s a long story but to cut it short, it was cheaper. Anyways, my housemates were bearable but we weren’t friends. We were cordial but we moved in different circles and we were too different. I had also stopped trying to make friends at this point. I was fine on my own. I spent a lot of time on the front porch. It was quieter than the house most times and I passed it every day I had to go to class. When you live somewhere for a while, you eventually start to see and understand your surroundings. We had a neighbour. An old man who was maybe 60? His house was right next to ours and after a couple of months, I couldn’t help but notice that no one ever came to visit him. Not a soul. Almost like clockwork he would leave the house at 8 with his dog, go for a walk I guess and come back by 10 or 11. He’d go back in and never leave the house again. He was always indoors if he wasn’t walking the dog or buying groceries. He did nothing else. Eventually, I started feeling sorry for him. Two Christmases went by and he didn’t leave to go see family nor did anyone come over. I was always alone for Christmas too. I have next to no family here. I’m completely on my own. Most of the people I know, including my housemates go home or to a friend’s for the holidays. I stay here. In this house. I can’t fly back home because it’s just not worth the cost and I understand my parents are doing the best they can, so I’m just here. All day, every day.
The first time I dropped his package I didn’t really plan it. I don’t know how it happened or when exactly. It just came to me one day. Christmas was shitty for me and it clearly was the same for this man so I could do something to make his holiday a little better while making mine a bit better too. I worked and my parents sent money so I had some money to spare. I got up, left the house and went grocery shopping. After filling my cart with a month’s worth of groceries, I paid, went home and dropped the bags on his front porch. I had every intention of ringing that bell and giving it to him but I’m not sure what happened. I guess I chickened out. I took a deep breath and rang the bell. The instant I heard him grunt, ‘coming’, I high-tailed it out of there. I have never run so fast in my entire life. I got to my front porch and dropped flat on the ground. There was no time to unlock my door and get in before he came out so I hid behind the plants on the porch and watched him through the leaves.
” Hello” he called out as he saw the bags.
He looked around and tried to find who owned it but eventually, he bent down to look inside them. The look of shock on his face was almost comical. I could see him muttering to himself. Eventually, he found the card I left behind. I remember thinking, ‘Thank God I didn’t sign that”. He read it and I swear I could see his eyes glisten and eventually the breathtaking smile that filled his face was all I needed. It was the best present I’ve had in a while. I’ve been doing it every year since.
I’ve had to be incredibly crafty and smart. Yes, he’s an old man but he’s no fool. Every year he’s tried to catch me and every year he’s failed. Sometimes he sits on his porch all night long, trying to stay awake but more often than not he sleeps off and I take my chance. Once, I spent unnecessary money mailing his package to him. It was incredibly frustrating but I had tried for days to drop it off and I started to feel like he was beginning to suspect me. I had no other choice. That was two years ago. Last year went a little differently. I overheard a loud conversation he was having with someone over the phone. That should have been my first clue. Mr Richard spoke to no one. He was the true definition of a loner. My second clue should have been the fact that this conversation was loud, too loud and it was happening in front of his house but I didn’t care. I barely even noticed all this. I was too busy being excited about the fact that he would be leaving town and won’t be back until the 25th morning. It was the perfect setting. In retrospect, I do see how dumb this was but it’s past now and no longer matters.
Come Friday evening after watching him drive away from our street, I quickly leave my house with the package in tow, run past his front lawn and up the front porch. I drop the package and make to turn when I notice some keys on the welcome mat. This was again, another clear sign that this was a sort of trap but as usual, I ignored it. Maybe a part of me wanted to get caught and I just didn’t know it. It was a really quick thing. I grabbed his keys without fully thinking, opened the front door on my third try, grabbed my package and ran into the house. It was dark so I spent a lot of time hitting things and trying to feel my way around them. Eventually, I found the dining table and dropped my package. Without looking around I quickly feel my way out of the house, lock the door, drop the keys and run to my house. Though just a few feet away, when I get inside my pulse is racing and I’m panting like I just ran a marathon. I feel triumph though. I had succeeded yet again. It was a good day. I genuinely went to bed feeling great about myself. I was happy I wasn’t caught. The next morning I woke up and as I step out my door ready for my run, I literally run into a basket at my feet. There was a huge sign saying, “Thank you for being the best Santa anyone could ask for-Now it’s my turn.”
To bring this story to a quick end, tears were shed, hugs were shared and lots of love was passed around. We spent the day laughing and talking about the game we had been playing with each other for years and eating of course! It was Christmas. We’ve grown closer all year and we celebrate holidays together now. We had thanksgiving dinner together and now we’ll spend Christmas together too. This time we’re both getting each other presents and we’re both aware of it. We’re each other’s Santas. It’s just not so secret anymore.
Victoria A.