As everyone knows Santa Claus is real for those who believe in him and his important work. I believe in Santa. The first time I realized this was in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. I was five years old. I vividly remember going downstairs Christmas morning, into our living room, to discover new toys sitting there for me and my sister. They hadn’t been there the night before. And the milk and cookies were gone! Holy Cow! Santa had actually been there for ME! What a feeling of incredulous wonder! We didn’t have a chimney, but my dad explained about Santa’s magic when the analytic side of my little brain started asking questions.
As I began to “grow up” Santa became unbelievable, or rather I forgot how to believe in him. Over the years the Christmas season became more stressful, harried and mostly a date on the calendar to finally arrive at. Nevertheless, the essence of him and some of that feeling of wonder (or maybe it’s just memory) would still return to me every Christmas morning. Then I had children of my own and Santa Claus became real to me again.
We become Santa Claus when we share, feel compassion, give comfort, get involved, do a favor, help someone out, or simply make someone smile. For me, believing in Santa Claus is believing my existence can make others better off than if I didn’t exist. It’s simply acknowledging our human nature and our unique ability for compassion, sharing and most of all, love. We all share this ability and have more similarities than differences despite our language, culture, and circumstances. I hope you believe in Santa too.