Pam, featured in her own Meet a Scientologist episode on Scientology Network, puts her life on hold around September—when the temperature plummets to a brisk 87 degrees and the beaches of Clearwater seem to turn just a shade whiter (it’s a white Christmas, of course). At that point, “Anything that’s not animals, work or Winter Wonderland gets dropped out of my life,” she says.
The holiday season and Winter Wonderland are Pam’s babies.
The annual holiday tradition is sponsored by CCV, which puts on charity events throughout the year to raise money to help children and families in need. Established in the 1990s by a group of Scientologists intent on giving back to the community, it has served over 150,000 children and families and has raised 50 tons of food and toys since that time. The rest of the year, the CCV sponsors an Easter Egg Hunt, a Chefs’ Showcase and even a fashion show—but Winter Wonderland is the jewel in the crown.
Let’s take a look, shall we?
As you enter, your first thought is: “There’s something wrong with my smartphone.” The weather app clearly says “fair and warm,” yet it’s most definitely snowing here. In Florida.
Next, wafting on the snow breeze is the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked cookies. You’re about to surrender to the spell when a woman with a Santa hat grabs you by the arm, hands you her phone, and asks you to take her picture. She shoves her head through one of those things you can shove your head through—this one a large-as-life image of Santa and Mrs. Claus on a sled. After the two of you make sure her head is aligned with Mrs. Claus and not Santa, she grins and you take the photo. She thanks you with a “Happy holidays!” which you return in kind, and you continue on your way through a place you’re certain can only exist in dreams—yet here it is in downtown Clearwater, thanks to the magic wand of Pam Ryan-Anderson (with a little help from truckloads of construction equipment, electrical wiring, paint and the unbelievable generosity of donors and a hundred or more volunteers, of course).
The holiday season and Winter Wonderland are Pam’s babies, and though the stork may have delivered her a day late for her first Christmas, she hasn’t missed one since.
“The true spirit of Christmas,” she says, “is family and giving and enjoying the wonderful things of the season, and when people come to Winter Wonderland, they see that.”
Pam has been involved with Winter Wonderland for three decades now, first as a volunteer, then as a CCV member and, since 2002, as Deputy Executive Director and then ED, running the show.
But Winter Wonderland as an enchanted holiday destination is not the full story, Pam confides to Freedom. Its actual purpose is the toy and food drive, so visitors are asked to bring along a new, unwrapped toy or some nonperishable food. “Everything goes to the Sheriff’s Police Athletic League,” she says. “This is a group that changes kids’ lives. And while a lot of the nonprofits around here have federal or state funding, this group doesn’t have much help.”
She tells of the time a group of handicapped middle schoolers came to Winter Wonderland. “We were open during the day just for them. And we had a Santa and I was Mrs. Claus, and we had cookies for them to decorate and eat. Then we took the children that are in wheelchairs and we got them on the little horses in our petting zoo. And it was so heartbreaking and so heartwarming at the same time, I can’t even tell you, because the teachers told me that most of these children did not have any Christmas except what we gave them.”
This year, the Police Activities League asked Pam if the CCV could help by providing Thanksgiving turkeys for needy families. She didn’t have to wonder about how to engineer that for very long. Striking up a conversation with local FEMA staff on hurricane repair duty, it came up that Pam ran a nonprofit. “Well, what do you need?” the main FEMA man asked. “Food for the holidays is good,” she answered.
Next thing you know, they had 150 turkeys.
She told the story to one of her real estate clients (Pam is a realtor in “real life”), who told her: “Find out what you need for the rest of the meal, and I’ll write you a check,” and that’s precisely what he did—for $6,000.
People like to help.
And to put together a major production like Winter Wonderland in five weeks, run it for three weeks and take it all down in two to three weeks, here’s the kind of help we’re looking at, in terms of supplies and human beings:
- Volunteers
- Special “fire” lightbulbs for Santa’s house
- Carpets
- Thrones
- A full-size motion-activated reindeer
- Subterranean tunnels under the park to carry eight miles of electrical cord
- More volunteers—carpenters, painters, people who can run those eight miles of electrical cord
- Tame animals for the petting zoo
- Thousands of fairy lights for the golden Cinderella carriage
- 97 Christmas trees
- Lights, lights, lights—55 sets of lights on the main Christmas tree alone
- Wreaths, wreaths, wreaths—so many that they need their own workshop: Wreath Central
- More volunteers—at least 35 on-site at all times to handle as many as 2,000 people in one night
- 20 pounds of icing each weekend for the cookies in Mrs. Claus’ cookie house
- Performers: a balloon guy, an Elvis guy, a parrot lady, the Jive Aces—the UK’s number one swing band—storytellers, etc.
- Still more volunteers
- …and a partridge in a pear tree…
Under Pam’s guidance, it all comes together.
As our stroll through Winter Wonderland continues, Pam is spotted talking to media as she stands by the golden Cinderella coach, lovingly and meticulously poshed up back to showroom condition this year (the fairy tale, along with, therefore, the coach, is at least 500 years old after all, and was long overdue for at least a tune-up).
The optics are perfect. The fairy godmother of Winter Wonderland by the Cinderella coach. No one but Pam, Joel (her husband and partner in all things) and several hundred volunteers will ever know all the blood, sweat, tears and heart it took to go from the first “Bibbidi” to the final “Bobbidi-Boo.”
How does she pull it off year after year—and keep her sanity?
The answer is instant: “Without Scientology, doing anything remotely like Winter Wonderland would have been inconceivable. Before Scientology, I was getting into trouble with a lot of different people and let’s just say I wasn’t living the happiest or best life. I used to be really shy and reserved. So definitely Scientology.”
And what makes it all worth it? Again, the instant answer: “We have thousands of kids that come here, so we’re touching thousands of kids’ lives. And whether they sit on Santa’s lap or make a cookie with Mrs. Claus or ride our train or play in the snow, that’s an experience that they’ll remember for the rest of their lives, because kids always remember these happy moments.”
The smell of fresh-baked cookies and hot cocoa wafting on a snow breeze. Children’s eyes wide with wonder. Happy moments. Memories lasting a lifetime. These things transcend the final days of December, or downtown Clearwater or even the state of Florida, but apply to anyone in the vicinity of Planet Earth who still has a soul they can call their own.
And that is Pam Ryan-Anderson’s superpower, far superior to any dusty magic spell cast by elf, sprite, spirit or fairy godmother: She is a creator of happy moments.
