July 23, 2014 at 2:10 p.m.
As real as you want it to be (12/20/04)
As I See It
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus and he still has room in his sleigh for a few more presents. Therefore I have a trip to the mall scheduled in the very near future.
Mrs. Claus and most of the female elves have been shopping and making toys all year. They had everything wrapped and ready to ship the day after Thanksgiving. I am not that efficient. I have accumulated most of the things I want to give but I’m never quite finished until the very last minute. I find it seems more Christmassy that way.
Santa and most of the male elves prefer to wait until Christmas Eve. The impending deadline is the only thing that will tear them away from all the football games at this time of year. I think they have some kind of bet going and the ones who bet on the winning team get to stay behind and clean up the workshop instead of going with Santa in the middle of a frigid night to unload toys.
It doesn’t matter if you are in the habit of squirreling gifts away or have yet to make the annual trek to buy the one item that will make your loved ones’ eyes light up. Everything will be safely tucked under the tree by Christmas morning with the help of Santa and a stray elf or two. The preparations will all be over and Santa can finally relax unless he has to travel to the in-laws for the holiday.
What? You don’t believe in Santa Claus? You think he is a myth that fuels the annual buying orgy? You think he obscures the real reason for the season? Bah, humbug.
We choose what we believe in. Santa Claus is as real as we need him to be. He exists in the shapes and forms of all of us who give gifts to others. Sometimes we give gifts because it is expected or because we want something in return. I suspect that most of the time we give because it makes us feel good to make others happy.
We derive great pleasure from the shrieks of our children as they discover that the oversized box is more fun than the present that used to be inside. We get a warm feeling when our spouse plays with the grown-up toy that he or she would never splurge on for themselves. We smile inside when our families like the things we have chosen for them. Who but Santa can give us an excuse to indulge those we love whether we can afford it or not?
The presents we choose and wrap so carefully are symbols of the affection we feel for our family and friends. It has been said that you can’t buy love. What can be bought are the things that make people smile with the knowledge that someone understands them. Having someone understand us and like us anyway is one definition of love.
Christmas is the season of love. It is also the season of fruitcake, but that is best avoided except by those souls who actually like the weird-looking stuff. Christmas is the time we give tokens of the affection and gratitude we feel the rest of the year.
Sometime those tokens cause us to wonder what the other person was thinking and sometimes they make us cry that someone loves us so much that they take the time to find out what we really want. Even if you can’t figure out why they thought you would like a Chia Pet or the bright orange shirt you should appreciate that they at least got up off the couch and shopped. Sometimes you get the strange and unidentifiable gift because they didn’t want you to feel left out. That in itself should be worth something. You can always take it back or recycle it next year.
Santa Claus exists. He is many men, women and children. He is what is good, and pure, and unselfish in us. He doesn’t always choose the perfect present but he always cares.
We choose what to believe. I choose to believe in Santa Claus even if he does need help filling his sleigh.
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Mrs. Claus and most of the female elves have been shopping and making toys all year. They had everything wrapped and ready to ship the day after Thanksgiving. I am not that efficient. I have accumulated most of the things I want to give but I’m never quite finished until the very last minute. I find it seems more Christmassy that way.
Santa and most of the male elves prefer to wait until Christmas Eve. The impending deadline is the only thing that will tear them away from all the football games at this time of year. I think they have some kind of bet going and the ones who bet on the winning team get to stay behind and clean up the workshop instead of going with Santa in the middle of a frigid night to unload toys.
It doesn’t matter if you are in the habit of squirreling gifts away or have yet to make the annual trek to buy the one item that will make your loved ones’ eyes light up. Everything will be safely tucked under the tree by Christmas morning with the help of Santa and a stray elf or two. The preparations will all be over and Santa can finally relax unless he has to travel to the in-laws for the holiday.
What? You don’t believe in Santa Claus? You think he is a myth that fuels the annual buying orgy? You think he obscures the real reason for the season? Bah, humbug.
We choose what we believe in. Santa Claus is as real as we need him to be. He exists in the shapes and forms of all of us who give gifts to others. Sometimes we give gifts because it is expected or because we want something in return. I suspect that most of the time we give because it makes us feel good to make others happy.
We derive great pleasure from the shrieks of our children as they discover that the oversized box is more fun than the present that used to be inside. We get a warm feeling when our spouse plays with the grown-up toy that he or she would never splurge on for themselves. We smile inside when our families like the things we have chosen for them. Who but Santa can give us an excuse to indulge those we love whether we can afford it or not?
The presents we choose and wrap so carefully are symbols of the affection we feel for our family and friends. It has been said that you can’t buy love. What can be bought are the things that make people smile with the knowledge that someone understands them. Having someone understand us and like us anyway is one definition of love.
Christmas is the season of love. It is also the season of fruitcake, but that is best avoided except by those souls who actually like the weird-looking stuff. Christmas is the time we give tokens of the affection and gratitude we feel the rest of the year.
Sometime those tokens cause us to wonder what the other person was thinking and sometimes they make us cry that someone loves us so much that they take the time to find out what we really want. Even if you can’t figure out why they thought you would like a Chia Pet or the bright orange shirt you should appreciate that they at least got up off the couch and shopped. Sometimes you get the strange and unidentifiable gift because they didn’t want you to feel left out. That in itself should be worth something. You can always take it back or recycle it next year.
Santa Claus exists. He is many men, women and children. He is what is good, and pure, and unselfish in us. He doesn’t always choose the perfect present but he always cares.
We choose what to believe. I choose to believe in Santa Claus even if he does need help filling his sleigh.
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