I had only worked a few weeks as the activities director at the assisted care facility in the heart of Milwaukee. Most of our residents experienced the problems of aging coupled with histories of mental illness and poverty. Traditionally at Christmas, Oakton Manor hosted a special party for the residents, complete with music, dancing, a buffet of Christmas goodies, and at the end of the evening a visit from Santa.
The night of the party, the dining room was decorated, small gifts wrapped for each resident, and the goodies were prepared for the buffet. The musicians came and set up their equipment. Several of the daytime staff stayed for the evening festivities. Some residents enjoyed dancing to the music while others simply sat around the perimeter of the room enjoying watching them and listening to the music. Others couldn’t wait to get to the table laden with treats.
Bob, a former instructor at an Arthur Murray Dance Studio twirled blond-haired Betty around the room. They made quite the picture in their festive attire. Various staff members encouraged other residents to join them on the dance floor. I made my way around the room visiting with individual residents. I had never learned to dance so there was no way I could encourage them to join me on the dance floor, but we could visit.
Finally it was time for Santa to come. Suddenly the elevator door opened and there he was, a bulging bag slung over his shoulder. I watched with amusement as he approached each resident and handed them a small gift. Then he came to Virginia. She was a quiet resident who spent most of her time in the smoking lounge watching TV. As Santa held out the gift for her, Virginia froze. The nurse immediately began talking to her, but for several minutes Virginia was unresponsive. Eventually the nurse coaxed her to follow her to the nurse’s office.
Later in our staff meeting, the nurse reported that Virginia had actually gone into a catatonic state. She explained that the danger is always that when someone enters that state, they may not return to normal. However, as the nurse continued to talk with her, Virginia became more responsive. “I never had a present,” Virginia told her. “We never had Christmas at our house.”
The nurse explained to us that Virginia was simply overwhelmed by all the stimulation of the party, the food, the music…and when Santa came and handed her a gift, suddenly it was all more than her mind could cope with, and she froze.
I knew that many of our residents had grown up in poverty. Some, rejected by their families or released from mental institutions, had lived on the streets until they found their home at Oakton Manor. Others no longer had family with whom to celebrate the holidays. I determined from then on that every resident would receive a Christmas gift personally selected for them. We would celebrate the birth of Jesus like family! We would enjoy the decorations, homemade Christmas cookies that we made together in my kitchen or our church’s kitchen. We’d sing the carols and party. We would attend special Christmas programs. On Christmas Eve, we’d gather around the Christmas tree in our largest lounge and read the Christmas story and open gifts. Virginia would celebrate Christ’s birth as long as it was within my power to make it happen!