Today Santa Wayne will fluff his white beard, pull on his black boots and head to Marley Station Mall to hear the hopes and dreams of children — just as he has most days in December for the past 35 years. But his job has been lonelier lately.

In 1989, when Santa Wayne began holding court here, the Glen Burnie mall was just two years old, gleaming and bustling. Carolers sang, fake snow fell in flurries from the ceiling and the line to see Santa Wayne stretched down the first floor hallway, halfway to J.C. Penney.

These days, the mall is much quieter. Many of the shops around Santa Wayne’s winter wonderland are vacant. He is still here to listen to children, just as he listened to their parents, and, in some cases, their parents’ parents, even if there are rarely enough of them to form a line.

“I just love kids,” Santa Wayne said. “And, if you listen to them, they’ll love you back. They’ll tell you about anything.”

For children reading this story, we should be clear that Wayne McCrea is not the Santa who lives at the North Pole. He is one of Santa’s myriad helpers, deputized to listen to wishes of children in a suburban mall so the Big Guy can focus on supervising the elves in his workshop.

“When kids ask, ‘Are you real?’ I say I’m a helper,” said Santa Wayne, 76. “You have to believe in the spirit of Christmas. You have to believe with your heart.”

He paused, rubbing his beard with a white-gloved hand, bells jingling with each move. “They understand that.”

Santa Wayne was 41 when the spirit of Christmas found him. At the time, he was working as a photographer for the Naval Academy and had a part-time job at the mall movie theater. His wife was still alive, and his two children young and living at home.

McCrea’s beard had turned white prematurely, leading him to be cast as Santa at a few office Christmas parties. So, when the mall manager asked McCrea if he’d like to be Marley Station’s Santa, he said yes.

In the early days, Santa Wayne would make a majestic entrance on Fridays. Sometimes a magician would make him appear from a box. Visitors would wind through displays of life-size dioramas of Norman Rockwell paintings on the way to his throne.

Like most other malls, Marley Station has changed dramatically over the years. First big box stores such as Walmart and Target siphoned business away from department stores. Then Amazon and online retail ate away much of the foot traffic.

Marley Station has changed hands several times in recent decades and passed through bankruptcies and foreclosures. Several anchor stores have closed, although Macy’s, J.C. Penney, Gold’s Gym and a movie theater remain. About half the smaller retail stores are vacant, but those remaining are unique and enticing, including a used bookstore and a Filipino restaurant.

This month, Erica Ilustre, 36, spotted Santa Wayne looking bored and lonely in the mall and wrote a post that went viral on Facebook.

“I actually stopped in my tracks and almost cried,” she wrote. “He said he saw one kid today and that’s it. He had his head hung and looked so sad I couldn’t handle it.”

Illustre said in an interview that she had visited Santa Wayne when she was a child. She had intended to just to alert a few friends that Santa Wayne needed visitors and was shocked when her post was shared thousands of times.

Inspired by the post, more families headed to the mall to see Santa Wayne, trying to bring him some of the holiday cheer he had brought to them over the years. There’s no charge to chat with Santa Wayne, although those wishing to buy photos with him can do so.

“I brought their mom here from the time she was 2 years old,” said Sandy McCartney of Glen Burnie, gesturing to her six great-grandchildren visiting from Florida: Kenleigh, 10, Ryleigh, 8, Everleigh, 6, Leighton, 4, Oakleigh, 3, and Paisleigh Shelley, 2.

The older children were eager to sidle up to Santa Wayne, while the younger two gazed wide-eyed. As the family filtered away, several of the children ran back to give Santa Wayne an extra hug. McCartney, whom the children call “Mom-Mom,” did too.

“I appreciate you,” said McCartney, perched on the edge of Santa Wayne’s oversize armchair. She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“I saw Mom-Mom kissing Santa Claus,” her husband, Jim McCartney, said, laughing.

Waiting quietly for their turn was the Coe family from Pasadena: 40-year-old Justin, 38-year-old Stephanie and 8-month-old Gianna, resplendent in a tiny black coat and silver shoes.

The couple said Illustre’s Facebook post had prompted them to bring Gianna to meet Santa Wayne. “It made me so sad,” Stephanie Coe said.

The Coes grew up visiting Santa Wayne and hung out in the mall as teens. “This used to be the place to be on a Friday night,” Justin Coe recalled.

Soon more people were lining up to see Santa Wayne.

Vince Reedy, 42, of Arbutus, brought his son Jax Reedy, 7, and grandson, Ky Mitchell, 3. Laura Shears Coates, 37, of Glen Burnie, brought her French bulldog, Gizmo.

The visitors seemed just as happy to see Santa Wayne as he was to see them. After all, it’s not often you can give some of Santa’s magic back to Santa.

Despite rumors to the contrary, Santa Wayne said he had no plan to retire. The best part of the holidays for him is visiting with children and their families at the mall.

He hasn’t decorated his Arbutus home for Christmas since his wife died 12 years ago. His children live far away, in Florida and Australia, and they aren’t planning to come to Baltimore for the holidays. His five grandchildren and great-grandbaby are far away as well.

But Santa Wayne has the company of those who visit him in the mall, generations who have shared their childhood wishes with him. “Ever since my wife died, I think of them as my extended family,” he said.

On Christmas Eve, after the mall closes, Santa Wayne said, he’ll head home, change out of his red suit, pour a Scotch and watch a Hallmark movie. He always feels a twinge of sadness when the holidays are over.

“I wish it was longer than a month,” he said.