ST. LOUIS – At a suburban Goodwill store on Friday, Theresa Settles selected a large, black comforter to warm her family until she can raise the money to turn the gas heat back on. A petite woman approached, her face obscured by dark sunglasses and a wrapped winter scarf, and handed Settles two $100 bills stamped with the words "secret Santa." "The only condition," she said, "is that you do something nice for someone. Pass it on."

"I will," Settles said, the only words she could get out of her mouth.

The secret Santa was a protege of Kansas City's undercover gift giver, Larry Stewart, who died of cancer nearly two years ago. Stewart roamed city streets each December doling out $100 bills to anyone who looked like they might need a lift.

Before his death in January 2007, Stewart told a friend how much he would miss his 26 years of anonymous streetside giving, during which he gave away about $1.3 million. Stewart, from the city suburb of Lee's Summit, made millions in cable television and long-distance telephone service.

The friend promised Stewart he would be a secret Santa the next year. "He squeezed my hand and that was it," said the Kansas City Santa, who would say only that he was an area businessman and investor. "I honored a promise."

Two secret Santas, one from the Kansas City area and the other from the St. Louis area, descended on thrift stores, a health clinic, convenience store and small auto repair shop to dole out $20,000 in $100 bills, hugs and words of encouragement to unsuspecting souls in need.

In this economy, they weren't hard to find.

Cynthia Brown, 40, was laid off three weeks ago from her food service job. Santa found her at the St. Louis County health clinic and gave her $100, exactly what she had asked to borrow from her mother a night ago to buy food.

"I have three daughters, and I can't get unemployment yet. I was down in food," she said.

Leotta Burbank, 50, of West Frankfurt, Ill., was at a thrift store Friday to buy decorations for her sister-in-law's room at a St. Louis hospice, where she is dying of pancreatic cancer.

When Santa gave her money, Burbank collapsed into his arms and wouldn't stop hugging him.

"God provides," she said. "This is real emotional for me."

For the secret Santas, it's not about keeping Stewart's memory alive as much as the meaning behind his legacy.

"It's not about the man, it's not about the money, it's about the message," the Kansas City Santa said. "Anyone can be a secret Santa with a kind word, gesture, a helping hand."

He said the money is given without judgment, but on the condition that the receiver pass along a kindness to someone else. Stewart began his holiday tradition at a restaurant in December 1979, after he had just been fired. He gave a waitress $20 and told her to keep the change and was struck by her gratitude.

Stewart also gave money to community causes in Kansas City and his hometown of Bruce, Miss.

The secret Santas want to expand their operation to every state, but so far only nine givers operate in Charlotte, N.C., Phoenix, St. Louis and Kansas City. They plan to start giving in Detroit this holiday season.

What a nice story.:)

This is St. Louis news too.

$10,000


By Patrick M. O'Connell
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
12/06/2008

St. Louis Secret Santa carries on the spirit of giving
Tomrita Clark reacts to receiving $100 from St. Louis' secret santa at the Goodwill on Forest Park Parkway Friday morning.
Tomrita Clark reacts to receiving $100 from St. Louis' secret santa at the Goodwill on Forest Park Parkway Friday morning. "Oh my goodness, is this for real," she screamed. Clark, who is an employee at the Goodwill, said she plans on using the money to buy her kids Christmas presents.

Lakresha Moore clutched the crumpled $100 bill in the aisle of the Goodwill Store, put both hands over her face and began to cry.

The single mother of two, tears splashed across her cheeks, could barely speak.

The day before, her 7-year-old daughter was hooked up to IVs and breathing machines inside Cardinal Glennon Children's Medical Center, the victim of a serious asthma attack.

Now the 28-year-old stood inside the thrift store on Forest Park Avenue, her whole body quivering after her interaction with a woman in a magenta knit cap, scarf, white hooded coat and sunglasses.

The short, slim woman walked up and asked if Moore had heard of Secret Santa. A Secret Santa, the woman said softly, randomly commits acts of kindness.

The woman then handed Moore the cash. The only stipulation: that Moore carry on the spirit of giving.

"I just thank God," Moore said, finding it difficult to put words together as she wept. "I'm struggling with things, and you don't have nobody to help you. ... Only God could put somebody here to give like that."

Dozens of similar exchanges took place across the city Friday morning as a St. Louis area woman and her mentor from Kansas City passed out $100 bills to Moore and others, hoping to help a few residents in need while spreading their message of giving and love.

"I hope they get the pay-it-forward feeling," the St. Louis Secret Santa said. "I hope they turn around and bless someone else. That's the whole idea."

The Secret Santa gave out close to $10,000 of her own money during the excursion.

The St. Louis woman and the Kansas City Secret Santa, accompanied by an entourage of "elf" helpers and a police security detail, stopped at a health center, a laundromat, a car care shop and several thrift stores across the area.

The Secret Santa tradition has been going strong in Kansas City for nearly 30 years. This is the first year that a similar type of "sleigh ride," as the missions are called, has been done in the St. Louis area.

The Kansas City man also handed out about $10,000 of his own throughout the morning stops.

Recipients of the gifts, ranging from women shopping for clothes to thrift store employees to men on the street, reacted with a combination of surprise, confusion and elation. Some, such as Moore, cried.

Others, such as John Sneed, quite literally jumped for joy.

Sneed, whose mother, Henrietta, died Thursday at age 78, had his mood brightened in an instant. Sneed sported a wide smile, held up the $100 bill and yelled, "This is great! This is great! This is awesome! Thank you so much."

The St. Louis Secret Santa, who requested anonymity to protect the integrity of the project and to avoid requests for money from others, plans to make this an annual event around the holidays in St. Louis.

Similar sleigh rides are planned or have taken place in Kansas City, Phoenix, Detroit and Charlotte, N.C. This particular Secret Santa movement was started in 1979 in Kansas City by Larry Stewart, who died in January 2007. Before he died, Stewart passed the tradition to a friend, the man who accompanied the St. Louis woman Friday.

The St. Louis woman had met Stewart and was drawn to the idea of "anonymous giving and the ability to touch lives."

"I believe I'm led to somebody," she said. "There's no telling what someone is going to do with the money. But it could possibly change something in them. ... You hit enough people, you're bound to change lives."

The donations — in case holiday cynics are wondering — will not be tax deductible.

At each stop, she bundled herself to conceal her face. Photographers from accompanying news outlets were ordered not to show her face.

Most interactions lasted only a few seconds, with Secret Santa quietly walking up to people and asking, "Have you heard of Secret Santa? Well, Secret Santa goes around doing random acts of kindness and asking other people to do the same."

With that, she would hand over the money.

"That is so wonderful," said Patricia Luckett, 48, of St. Louis County, who received a gift inside the St. Vincent de Paul Thrift Store on Forest Park Avenue. Luckett was at the store looking for a few inexpensive gifts for four families who send their children to her home day care.

"Thank you, thank you," Luckett said, giving Secret Santa a big hug.

"I can't believe people are actually helping other people like that," Luckett said.

Peggy Ameln, 70, another recipient at a Goodwill Store in south St. Louis County, kept asking if the whole thing was a joke.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked. "Is this what a $100 bill looks like?"

Between stops across the city and county, Christmas music played on the van radio.

"I'm having a blast," the St. Louis Secret Santa said. The best moment, she said later, was Moore's reaction.

"She was just breaking my heart," she said.

Moore, who is unemployed, said she planned to use the money for clothes for her children and to pay her heating bill.

Sneed, the man who got a gift outside a thrift store, didn't know what he was going to do with the cash. He said he was too "flabbergasted" at that moment to figure it out.

But for Sneed one part of the interaction was clear.

"This is a blessing," he said. "That is just unbelievable. ... For this to happen, it's just the greatest thing."