Dear Santa,
Where are you? It seems you have disappeared. Each day brings new challenges to your existence. I need you back. There is a Santa-shaped hole in my heart longing for you.
I remember when believing was easy. When I was five my mother gave me a pink and orange coat that I deemed too puffy. She didn’t know what I needed. The next day, you arrived with a giant pink dollhouse. It was exactly what had I asked from you. With joy I shouted into my naughty twin brother’s face, “I must have been really good!” They'd told me to be good for Santa so I was. When my mom held my brother so I could return his punch, I absolutely refused.
From an early age, I believed. My faith in Santa was high, with strong levels of holiday cheer. The books, the songs, they were all nearly hypnotizing. “He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good.” What a powerful man. My mother even said she had kissed him once. At school, we placed our shoes outside the classroom on St. Nicholas Day. An hour later, we had candy in our shoes. Truly, Santa was a man who gave without expecting anything in return, except our goodness, and if you were bad, he would know it.
In college my world was shaken upside down. For the first time in my life, I met nonbelievers. I can see not believing in the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy, but this was Santa, the head honcho. It is not like I didn’t know nonbelievers existed. My dad claimed to not believe at the time when he met my mother. For some reason, I had just never thought about it before. Outside my comfortable holiday boundaries, I began to see different ways of life. The daily exposures to these differences made it difficult for me to maintain my belief. I met others who stopped believing because their parents stopped believing, and others who stopped in exchange for naughtiness. Others didn’t feel that they left Santa, but that he left them, or that Santa was something belonging only to their childhood.
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Article comments
1 - Christy Corp-Minamiji
This is great, Emily. What a timely take on the importance of hope and belief (in anything)!
2 - Elizabeth Brock
Santa is real, and there is no doubt about it. He may not be a jolly fat man who directs elves, drives a sleigh, and squeezes down chimneys, he is, however, very real. Santa is in everyone. He is generosity, kindness, and goodness. Just as when you are "good" and Santa brings gifts, when a person chooses to be "good" or perform a nice act, it is returned upon them in some way or another. It can come in many forms, a present under the tree, a helping hand when needed, even the good feeling you are left with. So I say, Emily, Santa is real. With all of the commercialization and the world becoming a harsher place, I think many people have forgotten this. The world would be better if they could remember.
3 - One Santa
Oh, nice piece Emily. The spirit of Santa is the spirit that keeps humanity together. Give because you care of how others feel. Santa Claus is real. He exists... but there is not only one Santa Claus... but many of them. A secret society of Santa Claus where people you meet every day on the street can be a secret Santa. Your neigbor, your colleague, your parents and people you would never expect are Santa Claus in secret. And this keeps the world going.