In case you wouldn’t know: I have already retired, even before next September 1, 2011. Indeed, I’m a retired Sinterklaas (Saint Nicolas: the Santa Claus version of Dec. 6th). For many years, I appeared that time of the year not in a black robe as usual in Court,  but in red....

At Anne’s boarding school, children told I was “the real one”, as I knew “everything” about their wishes, their virtues, and.. their failures.

Once I was close to be “unmasked”. A little girl remarked: “Saint Nicolas has the same shoes as Mrs Anne !?”  Yes indeed, excellent TBS shoes, mine in a bordeaux colour - very Cardinal, if not saintly - and Anne’s in black, but this perspicacious girl of about 7 years saw the similarity of the design - you should never underestimate children !

So I went on to explain mine were very special (in that colour) to walk on the roofs, with an anti slippery sole. I got away with it, and it added  to my status as the “real Saint”.

Of course, my best sources or ‘spies’ were Anne, and her collegue, Martine.

My Holy Book was an old Journal des Tribunaux (thanks to the great format) that secretly contained all information about the children, but always in balance, first the - and than the +  Always give the bad news first, and save the good news for a happy end.....

However, my most difficult moment was when a young boy was called, and I hesitated, as I could not see him very well: Saint Nicolas used the old gold rimmed glasses of my mother, not adapted at all to my eyes. It seemed as if my own son came up, but ... of course only his jeans, shirt and shoes.... not his face. It was our tradition to give worn clothes of our sons to the ‘emergency stock’ of the school, for children in need. There I was, behind the appearance of a Saint: a father, before a child, but not his son, in need. I knew the history of this child. I knew the history of his family, and his parents, as I met them in court - in my black robe.

La vie n’est pas un cadeau. Some of those children, at less than 15 years of age, looked after their younger brother or sister, when their parents left them for the local bar. And that’s only a detail.

I will forever remember what I said to this boy, as he was close to be dismissed from the school for “bad” behaviour: “You are a good boy. Things are not easy for you, but you are good. Believe you are good. You can do it. But be careful in what you do, and Saint Nicolas will be proud of you. “

Those were slowly and silently pronounced phrases. Nobody else could hear us, but Zwarte Piet, and Mrs Anne and Mrs Martine. He listened carefully. It was hard for me, and very meaningful for him. He nodded, he understood. He walked gravely but more confidently away, if not happier, than he came. Maybe this was his best present, and anyway, it was meant to be.

Saint Nicolas might be a moment of justice for children, as he comes (almost) everywhere. It’s a moment of equal joy, even if the presents offered are very modest. It’s a moment of wonder, and sadly, justice too often seems a kind of wonder.

Wat u vast niet gemist hebt - Ce que vous n’avez certainement pas râté - You didn’t miss this one did you ?

06 12 2010 “La Justice française n’interdit pas à OVH d’héberger Wikileaks” (Le Monde)

Photo of the day:

Sinterklaas entering Bruges this year, careful measuring the tricky head trap of the Molen Bridge ;-)

Poem of the day:

‘Kom niet met de hele waarheid,

kom niet met de zee voor mijn dorst,

kom niet met de hemel als ik om licht vraag,

maar kom met een glimp, met dauw, met een flinter,

zoals vogels druppels meedragen van hun bad

en de wind een korrel zout’

Olav Häkonson Hauge, Noors dichter 1908 - 1994

(uit ‘De mooiste van de hele wereld’, moderne wereldpoëzie samengesteld door Koen Stassaijn & Ivo van Strijtem, Lannoo 2010)