Proof The Bible Is True

“Hold it right there!” I froze mid-step, pinned by a blinding beam of light. The voice behind the flashlight echoed in the hospital stairwell. “What are you doing here?”

 

I tugged nervously at my hat. How would I get out of this jam? I knew I looked ridiculous—or worse, suspicious—in my Santa suit, complete with curly white beard, heavy black boots and ample padding to hide my decidedly un-Kris Kringle-like 21-year-old frame.

 

It was Christmas morning, just after midnight. I wasn’t looking for attention. The whole point of this get-up was to sneak into the hospital. It had seemed like a perfect disguise.

 

“I’m waiting,” the voice said. The flashlight lowered, and I could make out a scowling uniformed security guard, his left hand on his radio.

 

I had to tell him the truth. “It’s my wife. She’s in the surgical ward and…”

Read More: A Job Too Big for Santa – Guideposts