[ WP ] Old man spends his last day alive working as Santa in a department store .

Herman Miller sat very still, moving only once to smooth a crease in his red velvet pants. He looked like a statue: not a statue like David or some major leaguer enshrined in front of a ballpark, but like the Pieta, a slumping heap of marble chiseled painstakingly over the last 68 years. Herman was conserving energy, storing up as much mirth as he could for the onslaught of eager children that waited outside for the department store to open. 
 
 In his younger years, he had needed no artificial girth to accurately play Chris Cringle. He was not really fat, but he was built in such a way that, combined with his jolly demeanor and broad shoulders, he fit the Santa Suit well. He could go for hours hoisting toddlers onto and off of his lap, a sort of conveyor belt of wondrous gazes and wide-eyed wishes that he never tired of. 
 
 Now, eight months into treatment, his trusty coat hung loose from his shoulders like a painter's sheet thrown over a discarded grandfather clock. Herman methodically grabbed several tufts of filling and stuffed it strategically between buttons on his coat. Almost immediately he felt a little better, the stuffing doing its best to counteract the cancerous chill in his bones. 
 
 Once the proud owner of a full beard, Herman now looked disdainfully at the fake facial hair he would strap to his face. He had tried growing out his beard after the chemo had ended, but it was patchy and disappointing. He gingerly put on the beard, his hands shaking all the while, and placed a curly white wig on top of his shaved bald head. 
 
 The kids streamed in, and for the better part of two hours Herman surprised himself with hearty laughter and strings of authentic Ho Ho Ho's. His eyes were ablaze with a warmth that he thought had left him for good months before. He whistled through chapped lips the melody of `` O Christmas Tree'' and `` Jingle Bells,'' glad for his elven assistants who were doing most of the heavy child lifting. 
 
 But after a few hours, a familiar exhaustion swept over Herman's body and he signaled the store's manager that it was time to switch Santas. Before the manager could cut off the line of children, a little girl no older than three wandered free of her mother's grasp and climbed, determined, into Herman's lap. He tried to hide a wince as she settled on his creaking thigh. 
 
 `` And what can Santa get you for Christmas this year?'' Herman half-wheezed. 
 
 The girl, stared back at Herman, precociously maintaining eye contact. `` I want a new set of markers, the ones that draw invisible until you paint on them.'' 
 
 `` Oooh, those sound fantastic,'' Herman replied, `` I'll add it to my list.'' 
 
 `` What do you want for Christmas, Santa?'' She asked him, catching Herman off guard. No one had ever asked him this question. 
 
 Herman thought for a second, and smiled back at the young girl. 
 
 `` Peace'' he whispered.
