Look at those faces in the picture. The proud smiles of new parents, and the bewilderment and wonder of their babies checking each other out. Beautiful.
It’s a snapshot of the diversity and best of who we are, taken at a Mommy & Me class in Burbank by the first lady of Christmas here in the San Fernando Valley — Esther Porter.
That’s her husband, Elliott, in the middle dressed in red. Santa Claus. You can’t miss him.
For 360 days a year, the Porters live a quiet, fulfilling life in retirement making hand puppets for shows they’ve put on for kids for more than 40 years.
Those other five days of the year, they’re the Clauses.
“Those are the happiest days of the year for us,” 82-year-old Elliott Porter said, getting ready for another visit as Santa Claus last week. “I’m never treated this special any other day of my life, except when I’m Santa.”
Elliott was personnel director for the Los Angeles City Department of Parks and Recreation when he got the job as Santa by accident 40 years ago.
He and Esther, and their daughter, Jennifer, were putting on a Christmas puppet show for the children of employees — the opening act before Santa Claus made his big entrance.
The only problem was Santa called in sick at the last minute. Panic set in. The kids loved the hand puppets, but make no mistake about it, Santa was the main act.
“He’ll be here in half an hour, kids,” Elliott announced, leaving Esther to stall while he sneaked into the back room and put on the Santa outfit.
“Ho, Ho, Ho,” he said, walking into the conference room 20 minutes later. What he saw looking back at him in those children’s eyes was powerful, he said. Awe and love.
He wasn’t Elliott Porter, hand puppeteer and boss, anymore. He was Santa Claus, bigger than life to those kids.
“It was thrilling,” he said. “Absolutely thrilling.”
Last week, the Clauses paid a visit to the annual City of Los Angeles Retired Employees holiday luncheon. There were no kids there, just grandmas and grandpas wanting a picture taken with Santa to send to their young grandchildren to impress them.
Look at us, hanging out with Santa Claus.
“It’s a lot of fun,” Elliott said. “The grandmas don’t get to sit on my lap, but I do ask them the same question I ask the kids, have they been naughty or nice? They love it. It always gets a big laugh.”
There’s no age limit to the power of Santa Claus, but there is to a hand puppeteer. He was 7 when he took up the hobby, rushing home from school to watch “Time for Beany” — 1949 to 1954 — on a neighbor’s small black-and-white TV.
He was infatuated by the 15-minute puppet show on Channel 5, and was soon putting on his own puppet shows into his teenage years.
After they married, Esther began making all the puppets and stages they danced on. Elliott provided the hands.
He’s nearing 83 now and those hands aren’t dancing very well anymore so it was time to hang those puppets up after one last show in May — a birthday party for the little girl living across the street from them, Dalia who was turning 5.
She and her parents had just moved into the neighborhood two years ago when the first lady of Christmas came running out of her house one afternoon screaming for help.
Her husband had been eating lunch and choked on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He couldn’t breathe. Dalia’s dad, Brent Madison, ran across the street and saved Santa Claus from dying that day.
Now, for his little girl’s 5th birthday, Elliott and Esther Porter were walking across the street to put on the best puppet show of their lives before retiring the puppets.
They’ll still be the Clauses for Christmas because they love it so much, they said.
Every holiday season for the last 40 years, they’ve received the greatest present from Santa anybody could ever want.
The best days of their lives.
Dennis McCarthy’s column runs on Sunday. He can be reached at dmccarthynews@gmail.com.