This Christmas season gave me a gift I’ll never forget — one that had nothing to do with wrapped boxes or twinkling lights. It happened at the RiverTown Crossings Mall, in a moment so small and yet so powerful that it will stay with me forever.
Like many families, we went to see Santa. My son joined his cousins, stood in line with excitement, and shared his wishes with the jolly old man before heading off, just as most kids do. I thought that was it — another holiday tradition checked off. But then something extraordinary happened.
While Aunt Brittany waited for the photos to print, my son decided to go back. He turned around, walked straight up to Santa again, and with his little hands flapping in excitement, said he wanted to tell him something important: “I have Autism.”
Santa didn’t miss a beat. He welcomed him back with open arms, gently took his hands in his own, and rubbed them softly to calm him down. Looking into his eyes, Santa asked, “Does having Autism bother you?”
My son, honest as always, said quietly, “Yes… sometimes.”
What Santa said next brought tears to my eyes. He reassured my son that it should never bother him to be who he is. He told him it was okay — more than okay — to be himself. My son opened up, sharing how sometimes he gets in trouble at school and how people don’t always understand that he isn’t being naughty, he just has Autism. Santa listened intently, leaning in, giving him his full attention as though nothing else in the world mattered at that moment.
Then Santa told him words every child deserves to hear: “Don’t worry. You are a really good boy just being yourself.”
For nearly five minutes, they sat together, talking in a way that was real and kind. My son wasn’t treated like a “case” to figure out, or someone to be explained. He wasn’t studied or dismissed. He was just Landon — a boy sitting with Santa, being told that who he is will always be enough.
As a mom, I tell him every day how special he is and how much I love him exactly the way he is. But there’s something powerful about hearing it from someone else — especially from Santa himself.
We’ve met many amazing people on our Autism journey, but this moment was different. This was magic. Pure, unconditional acceptance wrapped up in the warmth of a holiday tradition.
So to the Santa at RiverTown Crossings Mall — thank you. You gave my son something more valuable than any toy on his list. You gave him the gift of being seen, understood, and loved for exactly who he is. And for that, you’ll always be truly amazing.
