San Juego: Fixer of Toys
Theme: After Santa Claus delivers toys on Christmas, what happens to those toys that break after Christmas is over? Domingo was a clockmaker and jeweler in a Mexican village in the mid 1800s, but after his death he became known as San Juego (literally, Saint Game), which is a shortened name for the longer meaning of a saint that fixes toys.
Domingo was such a skilled clockmaker and jewelry maker. He could so easily combine the tiniest of metal parts with such coordination and precise movements.
However, Domingo was bad at business. Whenever a child came into his shop with a broken toy or a doll with a missing limb, Domingo stopped his work and immediately fixed the toy; and he would not take a penny for the repair. And this happened all the time. Consequently, Domingo did not make and sell very many clocks nor very much jewelry.
“If children are happy, then I’m happy,” Domingo would often say.
His busiest time started in late March and continued on to Christmas. Santa’s toys delivered on Christmas usually started to break about three months later and the breaks did not let up until Santa came around again the next Christmas with new toys.
“I need to talk to Santa about the quality of his toys,” Domingo sometimes joked.
Around Christmastime, children started donating their old toys in anticipation of Santa delivering new ones. Domingo collected these old toys at his shop, fixed the broken ones, and then donated them in the new year for birthday presents when families could not afford them.
One day, a distinguished looking man came into Domingo’s shop.
“I am a doctor and I am performing a very intricate surgery tomorrow,” the well-dressed man began. “Honestly, I could use an assistant with exceptional steadiness-of-hand while manipulating very small things. I hear that describes you perfectly.”
“That is what they say,” Domingo replied. “I will gladly lend my skills to assist you, but I will not take any payment in return.”
“I insist on paying you,” the doctor said.
“Helping someone fix their health is enough payment for me,” Domingo responded. “I have enough money from my clock and jewelry making.”
“As you wish,” the doctor said. “Come to my office early tomorrow and I will instruct you before the patient arrives.”
The surgery went very well. Domingo’s skills made the detailed maneuvers of the small tissues, blood vessels, and surgical instruments extremely easy. The doctor was so appreciative.
Word spread. Another surgeon from a nearby town made the trek to Domingo’s shop. Soon, Domingo was assisting three different surgeons. Then, a vet of both large animals and small pets asked for Domingo’s help. Again, Domingo would not accept money for helping to “fix” things, people and, now, even animals.
This decision was a very bad business decision, for Domingo could have made a great deal of money.
Still, Domingo became happier and happier with all of his new “fixing.” He firmly separated his work for income from his “fixing.” The first was for his material needs. The second was for the happiness of his soul.
“Besides, I really need to eat less,” Domingo chuckled as he rubbed his slightly round belly. “The less money I make, the less I can overeat.”
Domingo and his “fixing” became known great distances from his little shop. Children came from both near and far towns with their broken toys. Patients sought him out to assist their doctors. Visitors brought their sick animals directly to Domingo’s shop and asked him to assist their vet.
Many years passed. Domingo helped fix many things, many people, and many animals. His eyesight weakened a bit, but using more powerful lenses in his jeweler’s loupe (pronounced ‘loop’) sharpened his vision. His fingers and hands began to waver a bit. He was honest with the doctors about this, but even with his slightly decreased steadiness, he still outperformed any doctor or vet in the region.
A few more years passed. Domingo was no longer able to see well enough to help the doctors and vets, even while using a very powerful loupe. The steadiness of his hands decreased to the point of no longer being able to help in surgeries or piece together the smallest pieces of clocks and jewelry. However, he could successfully work on larger pieces as well as toys.
A steady flow of children brought their toys into Domingo’s shop. His fame from helping doctors and vets resulted in more children filling his shop than ever before. Consequently, he still had very little time to make a living from his clocks and jewelry.
His very small income made Domingo grow thin from lack of food. Still, nothing could dim his joy of fixing things and making children happy.
While repairing toys, every once in a while, a child would say something bad about Santa.
“These toys should last longer,” one child said. “Why does Santa bring us such cheap stuff?”
“Don’t say that,” Domingo corrected. “I was wrong to joke about Santa. The toys of any toymaker can only last so long. Santa is no different.”
“But Santa has special powers,” another child added.
“Santa’s specialness is his extreme love and generosity to all children,” Domingo replied. “His special power is that he can deliver all these gifts in one night. But that does not mean the toys will never wear out.”
“That makes sense,” the children responded together.
“Fixing toys is my special power,” Domingo chuckled. “Santa cannot have all the powers.”
The children laughed.
Early one morning, a child named Antonia pulled her broken toy wagon into Domingo’s shop. The wagon’s front axle was broken, so it was more accurate to say that Antonia dragged it there. Domingo was not in the shop, so Antonia sat in her wagon and waited for him. Soon, two other children also brought in their broken toys, but Antonia reported to them that Domingo was not there.
This was strange as Domingo was always in the shop. He slept on a small bed that he pulled out from beneath is workbench. Children with their broken toys came to his shop from morning to night. He even gave coins to children from time to time to go get him some food—so literally, he never left the shop.
After the shop filled with children, Antonia decided to go tell her mother what was happening. Her mother went straight to the police station. Soon, a large group of adults and children were looking everywhere for Domingo.
They searched every building in town and several groups of adults searched outside of town along the roadways, fields, and hills. Domingo was nowhere to be found. After being so readily available to everyone for so many decades, suddenly no one could find him.
A week passed and groups went out everyday, but with no success. Gradually, the adults stopped looking for him but they continued to bring flowers to his shop and set them outside the door. But the children did not give up. Instead of playing with their toys, they searched and searched and searched.
Stories started to spread that Domingo had literally disappeared into thin air: that he was such a good person that both his body and soul went straight to heaven.
Then, one day, the child, Antonia, decided to drag her broken wooden wagon back down the street and leave it outside the door of Domingo’s shop. Among the many bouquets of flowers near the shop’s door sat one broken toy: Antonia’s broken wagon. With a heavy heart, Antonia left it there as a way to remember and honor her dear friend.
The next day, Antonia walked back down the street and spotted something that was different at Domingo’s shop door. She ran across the street.
“A miracle!” Antonia exclaimed. The front axle of her wooden wagon was replaced with new wood. The front wheels turned perfectly. Antonia pulled her fixed wagon up and down the street proclaiming “A miracle!” Everyone was so excited!
The next day, two more children put their broken toys by the door of Domingo’s shop. In the morning, they were fixed!
Soon, lit candles were placed in front of the shop, not out of sadness, but out of joy—as if it were a holy shrine. Bouquets of flowers for grieving were replaced with bouquets for happiness and joy. And, of course, broken toys were placed there that were fixed by sunrise.
Next, sick people who required expensive surgeries slept for one night on the ground outside of the shop’s door. Many returned to the shop days later to report that their doctors told them they no longer needed surgery. Sick animals were left in front of the shop at dusk and their owners came back to pick up their healthy animals in the morning.
Every broken thing, person, and animal was getting “fixed,” seemingly, through the intervention of Domingo.
Domingo’s fame spread farther and wider than when he was alive. The people began to call him San Juego, whose literal translation is “Saint Game,” but it had the broader meaning of “the saint of broken toys” and then it took on an even broader meaning of “the saint of the broken.”
Domingo’s shop became a shrine of healing. The shop was kept pretty much the same as the day that Domingo vanished. It was kind of a museum.
Eventually, the church proclaimed the first day of every month from March to December to be San Juego’s Day of Fixing. Many toys, people, and animals were “fixed” on one of those ten days of the year due to the intercession of San Juego.