No hay or carrots to leave in the wooden shoes for St. Nicholas’ horse tonight. My father brought these shoes back from the Netherlands sometime after WWII. I dusted them off as they sit by the fireplace, untouched. When we lived in Germany, St. Nicholas came through the neighborhood, bringing candy and little gifts for the children. Matthew’s Kindergarten made a St. Nicholas by drawing a face on a walnut and sticking it into an upside down red apple, connecting it with a wooden toothpick inside. The nut had a foil bishop’s mitre on top, and a fluffy cotton beard. His story tells of a compassionate and generous man.
