The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wafted from a little red oven working overtime inside a busy holiday market in Bend this month. A jolly woman in a red dress was ready with oven mitts and a spatula.
“Golden brown around the edges, that’s perfect! Couldn’t ask for a better batch,” said Sandra Claus, who donned a dome of silver hair, a bright red ‘50s style dress, a wide black belt and fur-lined shiny boots.
“I’m Santa Claus' little sister,” she explained authoritatively. “I live at the North Pole with the rest of the Clauses. I’m in charge of baked goods.”
Sandra’s makeup glittered under her jeweled red eyeglasses while she served up treats from a green velvet sofa. As soon as Milena Espinoza walked in the building, she gravitated to this spot, sat down and immediately took off her shoes. Milena pressed bare feet onto the floor and visibly relaxed.
“How old are you?” Sandra asked quietly.
Milena answered by tapping a blue tablet she wore around her neck: “I am 16 years old,” replied an adult-sounding AI voice.
“Wow, 16 years old. You’re so grown,” Sandra said.
Milena leaned toward Sandra and used her own voice to make noises, trilling her lips into “brrr” sounds.
“She’s autistic and nonverbal,” explained her dad, Martin Espinoza.
He stood close by, sharing in a calm moment as it unfolded in an especially verdant corner of the Somewhere That’s Green plant shop in Bend. That’s where Sandra performs every weekend between Thanksgiving and Christmas. For Martin, meeting this character while his family was out shopping for gifts was “quite the random pleasant surprise:”
“A couple weeks ago, we saw Santa Claus and [Milena] was like, ‘No thank you.’ But Sandra Claus is a hit,” he said.
“I love you,” Milena chimed in with her tablet.
“Thank you for being my friend,” Sandra replied.
Unlike her brother, Sandra Claus doesn’t use velvet ropes to corral a long line that culminates with a quick photo, or for some kids, screaming fits. Sandra also doesn’t expect anyone to sit on her knee.
“I feel like Sandra’s a little more approachable,” she said. “The big bearded man is a little scary at times in that big, ‘Ho, ho, ho’ that he does. It’s terrifying sometimes... The kiddos here are just kind of free to come and go as they please. The moment’s about them.”
When Sandra isn’t at the market, she transforms into 56-year-old Davie Felton, a transgender woman from Bend.
Before creating Sandra, Felton spent 12 years working as a professional Santa. She even grew out a long beard and bleached it white because “kids can spot a fake Santa.” That authentic look also landed her gigs controlled by an elite agency, one “that hires professional Santas and places them in venues all across the country.”
Felton, who’s got five kids of her own, long earned extra money by playing a very traditional version of the North Pole’s most famous resident. But several years ago, she prepared to say goodbye.
“I decided that I no longer wanted the beard. It was causing me a lot of gender dysphoria,” she said. “I was just assuming that Santa would go away.”
Then, she got an idea: “What if Santa had a transgender sister? We’ve seen the lore of other Clauses in the world… And why wouldn’t Santa support and love his transgender sibling?”
Remaining a part of the Claus family was important to Felton because it tapped directly into her happiest childhood memories.
“My mother’s mother instilled a love of Christmas into me a long time ago,” she said. “My grandmother started making Christmas gifts for people in January.”
The women in Felton’s family helped her feel loved and accepted while growing up in the Mormon Church in Salt Lake City, and she said she never had a bad Christmas memory.
The rest of the year, though, could be rough as Felton faced bullying and found it difficult to trust people.
Those experiences fomented anger and spite, feelings she said she dealt with for years in therapy. Eventually though, Felton said, she let go of other people’s expectations and was able to “find the real person inside me who loves other humans and gives them the benefit of the doubt.”
The magic of Sandra, Felton explained, is to model that kind of trust and acceptance.
“There are a lot of kiddos who don’t feel like they belong in the world. We need to make sure they know they are valid, they get to be accepted for who they are, and that at the end of the day, they get to decide who they are,” she said.
While in character at the market, Sandra’s adamant her brother Santa doesn’t keep a naughty or nice list.
“Absolutely not,” she said, “Every kiddo’s been nice. If there is a naughty list, most of the grownups are on it.”
As visitors approached, she promised to deliver all their holiday wishes directly to Santa.
Ten-year-old Charlotte wanted a stuffed horse. Six-year-old Lila was dying for one of those arctic fox toys. Eight-year old Kora dreamed of a Hello Kitty CareBear, while her 10-year-old sister Lucy made a strong case for a pet rat.
“A rat?” Sandra replied. “I love that. Now, animals are a big commitment, though.”
“We already have a dog,” Lucy assured.
“Well, you seem like a responsible individual,” Sandra said, preparing for a diplomatic turn: “My brother has a habit of not promising animals, though. That is a family decision.”
Other requests also went well beyond Santa’s powers.
“I just hope everybody’s kind to me next year and nobody is bullying me,” wished 9-year-old Crosby.
Over the years, Felton has heard many heartbreaking requests, from bringing grandma back to life, to reuniting divorced parents. But Crosby’s plea hit home, landing like a gut punch amid all the merriment. Tears began to roll down Sandra’s heavily made up cheeks, smudging her bright pink eyeshadow.
“As a kid, I didn’t know my value. But, getting to discover that now is magical.”
Her wish, she said, is for the trans people in her life to be able to live without worry, and “just be themselves.”