Yesterday morning dawned cold and bright, and Larry Budd woke up excited, because this was the day he had waited for all year. He gathered dozens of candy canes from Wal-Mart, pulled his heavy red suit out of the closet and drove to Baltimore.

Most of the time, the 52-year-old Laurel man deals with facts and figures, managing space at the sprawling National Security Agency at Fort Meade. But yesterday, for the sickest patients at Maryland Shock Trauma Center, he was Santa Claus. It's a tradition he started six years ago, after his life was saved at the hospital.

"I believe in Santa Claus," said Budd, who makes the rounds of every floor, from patients recovering from brain injuries to those brought in yesterday from accidents. "This is what Christmas is for -- to give."

He arrived at the hospital in a trim navy blue suit and holiday tie -- it causes too much commotion to drive on the interstate and walk through downtown dressed as St. Nick -- but was soon transformed into the jolliest of characters.

On went the baggy pants and fuzzy Santa coat, the curly white beard and wig, the white paint to cover up his dark eyebrows and the warm brown blush from his wife's pink compact to give the rosy glow of having just stepped off the sleigh.

"Merry Christmas," he bellowed as he marched down the halls, shaking hands with patients, giving candy to their visiting relatives, hugging doctors and nurses who love to see Santa as much as anyone. Those smiles -- that was all he had hoped for.

"You're in good hands," he'd tell them, something he knows firsthand.

The holiday ritual started several years ago, after Budd was injured while riding a personal watercraft in Ocean City. He developed a serious infection, and by the time he was transferred to Shock Trauma, the infection had entered his blood. He was septic and near death. Two weeks later, after surgeries, antibiotics and other treatments, he left the hospital.

The near-miss changed Budd's life. He married his girlfriend. He took a promotion at work. He let go of many of the things that used to bother him. He became more outgoing, more compassionate. And he wanted to give something back.

It didn't take long for him to hit on the idea of playing Santa Claus.

When Budd was growing up in Glen Burnie, his parents made a big deal over Christmas. Budd used to help his mother string long lights over the trees in their yard. On Christmas Eve, they'd put up a big tree and decorate it. They always left milk and cookies for Santa.

"Larry would get out there and 'Ho, ho, ho,'" said his mother, Lorraine Budd, 71. "He always loved Santa Claus. He's got so much play in him. He's just a jolly old boy."

Budd remembered how ill the patients were at Shock Trauma, and he wanted to help them.

He was unsure, though, how the sickest might respond. But he has discovered that most want to see Santa Claus, or just touch him.

One woman had lost several fingers in an accident, and she looked so ill that Budd was going to skip her room. But then he saw her trying to motion him. He went over to her bedside. She reached out her bandaged arm and rubbed the white fur on his suit.

Another year, a 16-year-old girl whose teen-age brother was in a coma after a car accident asked Budd to join them. She wanted Santa to be in a family photo, perhaps their last.

"Everybody loves Santa Claus, no matter what religion you are. Even people in a bad mood will smile," said his wife, Vicky, who dresses in red and helps her husband pass out the candy canes.

During yesterday's 90-minute visit, Budd spent time with Martha Boynton, a 49-year-old Annapolis woman who came to Shock Trauma after being hit by an apparent drunken driver nine days ago as she and her teen-age daughter rode bicycles on the Eastern Shore. She broke bones in her leg, ankle, shoulder and face.

She will spend Christmas in the hospital, though she is expecting visits from family and friends, including church members who plan to serenade her.

She was pleased to get a visit from Santa. "I love to honor Christmas," she said. "I am all for that."

Down the hall, Budd met Homer A. Sander, an 87-year-old from Pasadena who broke his hip Wednesday as he tried to take Christmas wreaths out of his car.

Sander smiled widely at the sight of the man in Santa's clothing. "I wonder what chimney he came down," he said.

In the early years, Budd borrowed a red suit for the event. Then a relative purchased one on sale for him after the holiday. But the thin cotton outfit kept falling down. So the morning after Christmas, his mother vowed to make him a real suit.

She searched for the best material she could find, eventually purchasing maroon velvet. Lorraine Budd settled in the sewing room of her Eastern Shore home and worked on the suit for five months, stitching on white fur and finishing it with a shiny buckle.

Budd, who is 6 feet tall and works out regularly, slips in a pillow to add bulk. "I'm usually happy," Larry Budd said, "but putting that suit on takes me up to the next level."

It's a feeling he loves. Over the years, he has added many stops, showing up at relatives' homes, employee holiday lunches and the Laurel Fire Department as Santa.

"It's a great time of the year," he said. "I think it's the best time of the year."

This year, Budd is savoring things a little bit more. His younger brother, 50-year-old Michael, needs a heart transplant, and he came along for the first time, handing out stuffed toys to sick children.

"Well, Santa, another successful year," Vicky Budd said, as his hat and beard came off.

"Well, I'll be back next year," her husband replied. "I'm inspired. It's nice to pull together and be thankful for what you've got.

"Every year is as good as the first year I did it."