Christmastime always reminds me of my first year publishing the White Center News and my wife and I were busy in the little office about a week before the big holiday when a child, a girl about 10 years old, came into the office. She had long brown hair and two of the biggest brown eyes we had ever seen as she peered at us intently at about counter height.

When my wife asked how we could help her she said softly.

"I would like to get a paper route. My mom is sick and my daddy doesn't have a job so I need to earn some money."

I choked up and my wife managed to ask her how old she was.

She answered, "I am nearly 11 and I would like to have a route near our house."

We found out where she lived, in the King County housing project near Lake Hicks and told her that she had to be 12 years old.

Then she said, "You know there isn't any Santa Claus. He isn't a real person, you know."

Then she smiled and went out the door.

We were stunned and I chased after her and asked her address. I told her we would see what was open near her house.

Her brown eyes lit up and she asked softly, "When will you tell me?"

I promised I would come by her house soon and she trundled off, presumably to tell her mom maybe she had a job.

Shortly after that Fred Metzler, an insurance agent with his office almost next door came by for coffee and I mentioned Brown Eyes to him. I asked if he would mind playing Santa on Christmas Eve so we could surprise the youngster. He agreed instantly. He was a huge man with a heart as big as a moon and had played Santa for many years.

I then went over to see my friend Floyd Wallen at Olberg's Drug store and asked for some gifts for Brown Eyes.

He immediately took me to his storeroom and filled a big box with toys.

I made several more stops at local stores and got gifts for mom and dad, also gladly donated.

That night Fred called and said he had arranged with the White Center Fire Department. They would gladly haul Santa Fred up to Brown Eyes house Christmas Eve.

When I told Mrs. Robinson, she grabbed her red flannel nightgown and built a Santa packsack filled to the brim with scores of Christmas goodies.

Then we took all our five boys and followed the big red truck with the big red Santa hanging on the back and watched as Brown Eyes came to the door. Fred was great with the ho-ho-hos and ringing his bells as he handed out a bunch of surprises. Then the truck moved on as he stopped at several more houses until he ran out of gifts and then we all went home to go to bed feeling good.

Several weeks later, she also got a route even though she was not 12.

Jerry remains a soft touch for Christmas, Santa Claus and youngsters who want paper routes. He can be reached at publisher@robinsonnews.com