Everything Santa/St. Nicholas Blog

Nina Rogulina, of the city of Vologda relates this miracle. This incident happened to me in February of 1994. While visiting my daughter in the town of Sheksna in the Vologda Region, I was taken to the hospital with severe bleeding. My condition was critical because of the great loss of blood .

In a semi-conscious state I saw a figure of a woman dressed in bridal white behind a row of newly ploughed black earth. I took a closer look and saw that her hands were black. This frightened me and I understood that this was death. Then at the same time there appeared a tall, luminous elderly man who hid me from view by leaning over the bed. I remembered his image well. After this vision my health began to improve.

Later I began to go to church and would often scrutinize the faces of the saints on the icons. I found the one I was looking for: St Nicholas the Wonderworker. Now I attend the church of St Nicholas in Vologda.

Irina Soboleva shared this miracle of St. Nicholas. In 1942 our family was evacuated from Leningrad to the Yaroslavl Region. We bought a tiny hut there. My mother was sick by this time, but we had to live somehow. We were starving, and herded livestock to make enough money to scantily feed ourselves.

One winter day my youngest sister began to plead to my mother for a small dried bagel, a sushechka. We had no flour in the house, let alone anything else, but the girl insisted. Then my mother, losing her patience, turned her to the icon of St Nicholas and said: “Stand here and ask St Nicholas to send you а sushechka.”

After that conversation there was a terrible snow storm for two days. Huge piles of snow surrounded the entrance to our hut. On the morning of the second day, when the sun finally came out, mother heard someone softly knocking on our front door. She sent me to open it, thinking that it was our neighbor. From our door I could see a large bundle of freshly baked bagels hanging on our fence. I ran to my mother and told her of the miracle. Mother was not convinced. She had us put on our overcoats, and we went to the village to see if someone had forgotten them.

The snow was fresh, and there were no footprints anywhere. Our neighbor knew nothing. No one in the village had any idea about them. We did not find the owner of the bagels and came home.

This was truly a miracle, because no one in the village could have given us such a gift: everyone there was starving. Once we got home, my mother placed us before the icon of the blessed saint and said: “Give thanks to St Nicholas the Wonderworker,” and gave us each a bagel. That bundle lasted us a long time.

Nicholas Ivanenko, city of Vileika, region of Minsk (Belarus) shares this story. Once, when I was working as the director of a cultural center I was invited to spend New Year’s Eve at a restaurant. This was during the Nativity fast (the Advent period of fasting, abstinence, and penance that is observed from the end of November until the first week of January by Eastern Orthodox churches), but I was interested in the payment which was offered and agreed to go. The night before I was in my own dream: in our parish church the relics of St Nicholas the Wonderworker are on display. Everyone is taking a turn to come up and venerate them. My turn came up, too. But when I leaned over the holy relics, St Nicholas rose, pushed me aside in anger and began to berate me in front of the whole congregation.

I woke up from a terrible sense of shame and fear, and could not fall asleep again for a long time. I prayed and cried, but clarity of mind came later. I did not change my mind about going to the restaurant—the payment was half of my usual salary. The feeling of fear and shame did not leave me, however. It prevented me from falling into deeper and more disgusting sins that New Year’s Eve. Yet it is impossible to stay clean when one jumps into a dirty puddle.

The extra money I made was spent on medications for my daughter who had suddenly become ill. I became despondent, thinking of my irreparable worthlessness. But St Nicholas was merciful to me and brought me consolation later. Some kind people gave me an icon with an unusual depiction of St Nicholas. The saint’s face, however, looks exactly as I remember it in my dream. Every day I ask forgiveness of St Nicholas, for I am not worthy to bear his name; I ask for help and intercession. And I know: though I am a perishing and sinful man, this God pleaser never forsakes me.

Olga Tereshkovetz, of the city of Daugavpils, Latvia tells this account of the Holy Hierarch St. Nicholas’ intercession that she heard from her mother-in-law, Evdokia S. Tereshkovetz. As a young man, her father received a summons to join the army during Russia’s war against Turkey. At that time he was already married, had a young child and a homestead in the village of Nitsgal.

On the way to the recruitment station his companions were laughing and joking, but Sidor (Evdokia’s father) continually prayed to the Holy Hierarch Nicholas the Wonderworker. A medical checkup was done. Sidor was in good health, but for some reason one of the examiners on the commission asked: “Do you want to go to war?” “You will send me no matter what I say,” Sidor replied. They inquired if he had a wife and family. Then, quite unexpectedly, they sent him home.

From that time on he had an even greater veneration for Saint Nicholas. His family grew, and he taught his many children to pray to this merciful wonderworker. My mother in law is now eighty-seven years old, and she treasures her large, antique icon of St Nicholas.

Evdokia also told her of another incident. In their village of Nitsgal there lived a wealthy man. He was married, but had no children; he led a dissolute life, drank and partied a lot. His wife took in a young niece to bring up as their own, and he even tempted her. This caused so much grief to the wife that she cried constantly and asked St Nicholas for help.

Once when the wife was not home her husband fell asleep and saw demons in the guise of two unknown, ferocious men. He was so frightened that he decided to visit a priest to repent of his sins right in the middle of the night. The demons said to him: “We will go with you!”

It was a perilous journey, and the man constantly prayed to St Nicholas as he walked. There was a river to cross, and it seemed to him that there were two bridges over the water. The demons began to push him forward, saying: “Go, go!’ But through the prayers of St Nicholas he turned around and made his way to the hut of an old, pious woman who lived nearby. His persistent knocking woke her up, and she found him in a terrified state. She had him venerate an icon, and then he himself saw that there were no bridges over the river at all…

From that time on he quit drinking and began to live righteously. St Nicholas miraculously saved this man. In gratitude, he ordered an icon of the saint to be written and donated it to the local church.

Vintage Christmas cards show Santa Claus with the baby Jesus. It’s rare to see them working together! Usually in this context Jesus is shown riding a donkey, being led by Santa, or else Santa pulls Jesus in a sleigh or carries him on his shoulders. Whatever the mode of transport, Jesus bears the position of honor and is made the focal point of the image by virtue of his bright, shining halo. Sometimes he even wears a crown of candles on his head.

These vintage illustrations suggest the peaceful coexistence of both traditions: the sixteenth-century Christkindl, and the relatively newer phenomenon of Santa. In modern-day Germany some parents have given up teaching their kids about the Christkindl, having surrendered to the global influence of Santa. Others have found a way to fuse the two mythologies. Still some remain faithful to Luther’s model, despite the ubiquity of Santa-centric holiday marketing.

The Christkindl tradition never spread much beyond central Europe, but the name “Christkindl” did find its way into American Christmas vocabulary in the form of “Kris Kringle,” an anglicized corruption. (In America, Kris Kringle is another name for Santa.)

To add further to the iconographic variation of the Christkindl: Every two years the famous Nuremberg Christmas Market in Germany crowns a new Christkindl from among a pool of female applicants between the ages of sixteen and nineteen. The face of Christmas to locals, the Nuremberg Christkindl ceremoniously opens the Christkindlesmarkt just before Advent, dressed in regalia that looks more fairy queen than kid angel, and certainly nothing like baby Jesus.

St. Nicholas underwent extensive modification over time to become the Santa Claus we know today, so did the Christ child. But unlike today’s American Santa, the iconography of the German Christkindl is much less standardized. Which is why, for example, online image searches are difficult: many images in which he/she appears are labeled “angel” instead—or, in the absence of wings, simply “child.” The Christkind, however, is no generic angel or child; his/her attributes include an assortment of goodies and toys, a Christmas tree, and a bell.

In many parts of Germany the secret delivery of gifts on Christmas Eve is attributed not to Santa Claus but to the Christkind (“Christ Child”)—or, in diminutive form, Christkindl. The idea that the baby Jesus is responsible for such a service originated with the Protestant reformer Martin Luther, who wanted to shift the association of gift giving away from St. Nicholas. Up until this point in history, gifts were exchanged in St. Nicholas’s name on his feast day, December 6; this was the major gift giving holiday, which children especially looked forward to. Luther, however, promoted December 24 as the primary date of gift giving, to link the receiving of good things with the receiving of the greatest thing: God in Christ, a savior.

Since Luther’s time the popular conception of the Christkindl has evolved from a little blonde-haired boy (a Germanized Jesus) into a feminine angel, whose relationship to Jesus is unclear. Some say the Christkindl is a messenger of Jesus; others say she is simply one who demonstrates Christ-like virtue. The angelic representation of the Christkindl likely arose as a combination of characters from nativity plays and Christmas parades, in which the Christ child is attended by angels.

On Christmas Eve night children are told to wait in their rooms for the arrival of the Christkindl, who announces her delivery by ringing a bell. By the time the children run out of their rooms to greet her, she is gone, and the living room is filled with freshly laid gifts, which the children proceed to open right then (rather than waiting till the morning, as in America). In some homes it is the Christkindl who sets up the family Christmas tree, or is at least the one who decorates it.

Like Santa Claus, the tradition of the Christkindl is just as readily embraced by nonreligious families as by religious ones. Also, even though the figure was conceived as a reaction against the Catholic veneration of saints, Catholics have latched on to it and are now one of the foremost groups to observe the Christkindl’s coming.

In vintage Christmas postcards (ca. 1880–1920) from Germany and surrounding countries, there are a range of visual interpretations of the Christkindl. Gender is one variable, though female is the predominant choice. The age of the Christkindl also varies, from about two years old to twenty-two. Her head may be adorned with a star headband, holly, a halo, or some combination of the three.

One constant in the iconography is the Christkindl’s journey through a snowy landscape, bearing gifts. Sometimes she is shown as a wingless human with a hooded fur coat. But more frequently she is shown as an angel. Often she is accompanied by a deer who helps her carry a basketful of fruits and toys and a Christmas tree. Sometimes, though, she pushes her goods in a wheelbarrow. When she arrives at a destination house, she may enter through a window or through the front door. Either way, she is quiet and stealthy, so as to avoid being noticed. Occasionally she is assisted by one or more other angels, with no apparent hierarchy between them. On other occasions she clearly exercises leadership over a team of . . . elf-angels?

Each region or locality throughout the German-speaking parts of Europe has its own Christmas customs, Weihnachtsmänner (Santas), and Begleiter (escorts). Here we’ll review just a sampling of the various regional variations, most of them pagan and Germanic in origin.

Knecht Ruprecht is a term widely used in many parts of Germany. (In Austria and Bavaria he is known as Krampus.) Also called rauer Percht and many other names, Knecht Ruprecht is the anti-Santa escort, who punishes bad children. Nowadays he is often a more kind, less menancing character, but in parts of Austria and Bavaria, Krampus remains a rather nasty figure.

Ruprecht’s origins are definitely Germanic. The Nordic god Odin (Germanic Wotan) was also known as “Hruod Percht” (“Ruhmreicher Percht”) from which Ruprecht got his name. Wotan, aka Percht, ruled over battles, fate, fertility and the winds. When Christianity came to Germany, St. Nicholas was introduced, but he was accompanied by the Germanic Knecht Ruprecht. Today both can be seen at parties and festivities around December 6.

Pelznickel is the fur-clad Santa of the Palatinate (Pfalz, in western Germany along the Rhine), Saarland, and the Odenwald region of Baden-Württemberg. The German-American Thomas Nast (1840-1902) was born in Landau in der Pfalz (not the Bavarian Landau). It is said that he borrowed at least a couple of features from the Palatine Pelznickel he knew as a child in creating the image of the American Santa Claus – the fur trim and boots. In some North American German communities Pelznickel became “Belsnickle.” The Odenwald Pelznickel is a bedraggled character who wears a long coat, boots, and a big floppy hat. He carries a sack full of apples and nuts that he gives to the children. In various areas of the Odenwald, Pelznickel also goes by the names of Benznickel, Strohnickel, and Storrnickel.

Der Weihnachtsmann is the name for Santa Claus or Father Christmas in most of Germany today. The term used to be confined mostly to the northern and mostly Protestant areas of Germany, but has spread across the country in recent years. Around Christmastime in Berlin, Hamburg, or Frankfurt, you’ll see Weihnachtsmänner on the street or at parties in their red and white costumes, looking a lot like an American Santa Claus. You can even rent a Weihnachtsmann in most larger German cities.

The term “Weihnachtsmann” is a very generic German term for Father Christmas, St. Nicholas, or Santa Claus. The German Weihnachtsmann is a fairly recent Christmas tradition having little if any religious or folkloric background. In fact, the secular Weihnachtsmann only dates back to around the mid-19th century. As early as 1835, Heinrich Hoffmann von Fallersleben wrote the words to “Morgen kommt der Weihnachtsmann” — still a popular German Christmas carol. The first image depicting a bearded Weihnachtsmann in a hooded, fur mantle was a woodcut (Holzschnitt) by the Austrian painter Moritz von Schwind

(1804-1871). Von Schwind’s first 1825 drawing was entitled “Herr Winter.” A second woodcut series in 1847 bore the title “Weihnachtsmann” and even showed him carrying a Christmas tree, but still had little resemblance to the modern Weihnachtsmann. Over the years, the Weihnachtsmann became a rough mixture of St.Nicholas and Knecht Ruprecht. A 1932 survey found that German children were split about evenly along regional lines between believing in either the Weihnachtsmann or the Christkind. But today a similar survey would show the Weihnachtsmann winning out in almost all of Germany – except for most Catholic areas.

You may find it interesting that some of our Santa Claus traditions truly came from St. Nicholas Day. If your children are confused about Santa Claus, perhaps tell them the story of St. Nicholas who was a real saint who bestowed gifts onto others to demonstrate his faith.

Leaving out Shoes

The most common way to celebrate St. Nicholas Day is to leave shoes out for St. Nicholas to place small gifts in. Socks are fine, too.

Traditionally, the gifts are simply small candies or coins—little items that bring a lot of joy for children. If you wish to celebrate this tradition, leave shoes or wooden clogs by the door on the evening of December 5.

In the morning, the shoes will be filled with small delights (candy canes, spare change, foreign coins).

The Candy Cane

A traditional treat on St. Nicholas Day is Spicy Sinterklaas Cake, also known as Speculaas. These are spicy, ginger cookies, often baked in a mold the shape of St. Nicholas!

Other traditions equate St. Nicholas with Santa Claus, which means that St. Nocholas comes on the night of December 24, leaving presents for children to open on December 25.

Many countries in Europe celebrate the Feast of Sinterklaas—also known as St. Nicholas—starting on the 5th of December, the eve of the day, by sharing candies, chocolate letters, small gifts, and riddles. Children put out their shoes with carrots and hay for the saint’s horse the evening prior, hoping St. Nicholas will exchange them for small gifts. (Sound familiar?)

In Belgium and the Netherlands, a fellow dressed as St. Nicholas would arrive by ship on December 6 and ride a white horse (or a donkey) through the towns, handing out gifts. It was the Dutch pronunciation of his name—Sinterklaas—as well as Dutch traditions that made their way to America. These led the way to the name Santa Claus and the tradition of gift-giving.

For many European countries, this simple gift-giving day in early Advent helps preserve a Christmas Day focus on the meaning of Christmas itself.

After the Reformation, St. Nicholas was largely forgotten in Protestant Europe, although his memory was kept alive in Holland as Sinterklaas. There St. Nicholas is said to arrive on horseback on his feast day, dressed in a bishop’s red robe and mitre and accompanied by Black Peter (Zwarte Piet), variously described as a freed slave or a Moor, to help him distribute sweets and presents to good children or lumps of coal, potatoes, or switches to bad ones. This tradition in the Netherlands has since become an issue dividing the country over the black-faced character. The Dutch took the tradition to New Amsterdam (now New York City) in the American colonies, where he was transformed into Santa Claus by the English-speaking majority. His legend of a kindly old man was united with old Nordic folktales of a magician who punished naughty children and rewarded good children with presents. The resulting image of Santa Claus in the United States crystallized in the 19th century, and he has ever since remained the patron of the gift-giving festival of Christmas. In Britain he was largely replaced with Father Christmas.

In parts of northern Europe, particularly the Low Countries and some German-speaking areas, St. Nicholas Day has remained a time when children are given special cookies, candies, and gifts. In many places, children leave letters for St. Nicholas and carrots or grass for his donkey or horse. In the morning, they find small presents under their pillows or in the shoes, stockings, or plates they have set out for him. Oranges and chocolate coins are common treats that represent St. Nicholas’s legendary rescue of three impoverished girls by paying their marriage dowries with gold. Candy canes, which have the shape of a bishop’s crosier, are also given.

It is thought that over the centuries the legendary St. Nicholas was merged with similar cultural and religious figures. Significant among these were the pagan Knecht Ruprecht and the Roman figure of Befana, an Italian tradition of an old woman who fills children’s stockings with gifts on Epiphany (Twelfth Night), as well as the Christ Child (Christkind, or Kris Kringle). A number of countries have traditions in which a malevolent character accompanies St. Nicholas. In France, Père Fouettard, who legend holds tried to cook three boys in a barrel of brine (See A gross miracle of St. Nicholas Post), is said to whip naughty children or give them coal. In Germany, Knecht Ruprecht serves as St. Nicholas’s servant and gives children who do not know their prayers sticks, stones, or coal. The terrifying devil-like Krampus is common in many central European counties and carries chains, bells, and sometimes a large basket with which to threaten naughty children.