I Hired a Man to Wish My Son a Merry Christmas as Santa Claus and I Noticed He Had the Same Birthmark as My Son

I hired the same Santa Claus actor to visit our home three years in a row. What started as a simple holiday tradition took an unexpected turn last Christmas Eve when I stumbled upon him in the bathroom—and uncovered the secret that would change everything.

Hi, I’m Elara. I was 34 when this happened, and I need to give you some quick context: I adopted my son, Dylan, eight years ago. He was just six months old when the adoption agency found him on their doorstep, with nothing but a note that said his name was Martin.

I renamed him Dylan, and since then, it’s been the two of us against the world. Single motherhood has been tough, but Dylan has been my greatest joy, and I’ve worked hard to make every holiday special—especially Christmas.

When Dylan was little, I hired photographers with their own Santa actors for holiday photos. But as he grew older, I wanted to create a more personal experience. Three years ago, a flyer landed on my doorstep advertising a professional Santa who could visit homes. It felt like fate, so I called. That’s how Harold came into our lives.

Harold showed up that first year in a slightly oversized Santa suit, but his warmth and charm made up for the imperfect costume. Dylan, just five at the time, was over the moon, convinced he was meeting the real Santa. Harold stayed for hours, playing, baking cookies, and reading stories. When I tried to tip him extra, he refused, asking only that I call him again the next Christmas.

And I did. Each year, Harold returned, spending hours with Dylan, making our modest holiday celebrations feel magical. I wondered why he stayed so long—didn’t he have other families to visit? But he’d simply smile and say, “Christmas Eve is for special boys like Dylan.”

Fast forward to last Christmas. Dylan, now eight, was still a firm believer in Santa, though he was starting to question things. As usual, our home was decked out with dollar-store stockings, an artificial tree, and a mishmash of ornaments from years past.

Harold was chatting with Dylan when an excited gesture sent hot cocoa spilling all over his Santa suit. Laughing, he asked if he could use the bathroom to clean up. I handed him a towel, but when I walked in, I froze.

There, on Harold’s back, was a crescent-shaped birthmark—the exact same one Dylan has. My mind raced. What were the odds? Then, on the counter, I spotted keys to a luxury car. Why would a part-time Santa drive a Mercedes?

Back in the living room, Harold accidentally called Dylan “Martin.” My heart stopped. That was the name on the note left with Dylan all those years ago.

I couldn’t hold back. “Who are you, and what’s going on?” I demanded, sending Dylan upstairs before turning to Harold.

He sighed, removing his fake beard. For the first time, I saw his real face—a man in his early forties, handsome, and strikingly similar to my son. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I’m Dylan’s biological father.”

Harold explained everything. He was young and broke when Dylan was born, abandoned by Dylan’s mother, and unable to provide for his child. Leaving Dylan at the adoption agency was the hardest decision he’d ever made, but he hoped it would give his son a better life. Years later, after turning his life around, Harold tracked Dylan down but didn’t want to disrupt his happy home. Instead, he found a way to be part of Dylan’s life—as Santa.

I was stunned. Part of me was angry, but another part understood. He wasn’t trying to take Dylan away; he just wanted to be there in some small way. After our conversation, Harold finished his Santa duties and left, but we stayed in touch.

A few days later, I told Dylan the truth. He knew he was adopted but was skeptical about Santa being his dad. After some time, he decided he wanted to meet Harold as himself—not Santa.

The next weekend, Harold came to dinner out of costume for the first time. What started as an awkward reunion turned into a lively evening. Dylan adored him, and soon, Harold was visiting regularly.

As the weeks turned into months, Harold and I grew closer too. By spring, our friendship blossomed into something more. And just last week, he proposed—dressed in his Santa suit, of course.

This Christmas, we’ll be celebrating as a family—Dylan, Harold, and me. Life can be full of surprises, and sometimes the most unexpected twists lead to the happiest endings.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering—we’re getting married this Christmas! 🎄