Give Santa his own code the night before Christmas.

‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads; and mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, wishing I could settle in for a long winter nap.

But sadly I knew someone must wait up to open the door, let St. Nick in and prepare for presents galore. So I sat by the entryway with spare key in hand, trying not to doze while I waited for the man. Before long my eyes became heavy, my chin fell to my chest and my breathing went steady.

Then I awoke with a start and with the sun pouring in, the children rushed to the tree to open their presents; they couldn’t wait to begin. It didn’t take long before everyone saw, a distinct lack of packages stacked ‘round the skirt. “You didn’t let him in,” scowled mamma, looking hurt. She spoke not another word, but went straight to work, and filled all the stockings with socks and underwear; I felt like a jerk.

My glance dropped to the floor as my kids began to whimper, when from the corner of my eye I caught a slight glimmer. The spare key I’d grasped now laid on the ground; I’d meant to give it to Santa last night when he came around. I knew then and there, this would never happen again, never would St. Nick be unable to get in.

I rushed to the store a day later, and made a dash for the lock aisle; my path couldn’t be straighter. The options were plenty but I knew a smart lock with multiple access codes was what I needed; I’d give a code to Santa so my kids wouldn’t feel cheated.

So I picked up a Schlage and grinned from ear to ear, I was getting remote access and security, even when I wasn’t here. I could program the lock and control it with my phone. Then I’d give unique codes to my kids to let them in after school, even when they were alone. Our pet sitter could use their code to check on our dalmatian, and the neighbors could water the plants when we go on vacation.

I paid for my new smart lock at the counter with glee, and knew that mamma would be happy again with me. I delayed not a moment when I arrived home with pride; I installed the lock in minutes then sent a letter to Santa full of yuletide. I included an access number, one of his own, and now while we slumber, he can enter the home. Not 1225, that’s too easy to guess, so I programmed 54636377, the numbers for KINDNESS. I closed my letter with a humbling plea, bring a dolly for Molly and a bike for Mike, and mamma would like a new set of skis. As for me, I’ve got all I need – peace of mind and home security.

When the night before Christmas rolls around in a year, I’ll join my family in revelry knowing there’s nothing to fear. I can just see it now: as I lay in bed welcoming sleep, St. Nick in his sleigh driven by his reindeer fleet. He’ll give his team a whistle, and away they’ll fly like the down of a thistle. And I’ll hear him exclaim, ere he drives out of sight, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”