Almost Haiku: Twenty-One

Glow lights

in the dark

whimsy thoughts.

I Guess I Still Believe in Santa. Do You?

When we were young, it was easy to believe in Santa.

Now that we’ve grown up, it’s easy not to believe in Santa.

He’s going to take off his costume when he goes home.

And pull off his fake beard.

And maybe he’ll pass by us on the street before the New Year comes to an end.

Time does that to us, strips us of illusions.

When I was young, I used to write short letters to Santa asking him for gifts.

Sometimes he delivered them through his recurrent messenger, my mother.

Santa still delivers gifts to me at this time of year, always indirectly—he’s a busy guy.

I can’t say I think that much about him anymore.

As the years go by, we tend to learn to give to ourselves the gifts that really matter rather than expect them from others.

And yet, what would grownup Christmas be without Santa?

Global warming has done away with snow, at least where I live.

But Santa always shows up around this time of year in one form or other.

Even if it’s only on the radio or in commercials, he makes his presence felt.

I guess I still believe in Santa, not in his existence, but in the idea of his existence.

Whether or not he has a beard or part time job doesn’t matter.

He could be a woman or African American or South Korean. Same to me.

The thing about Santa is that he wears the holiday spirit, and it suits him.

I don’t know exactly what that is, the holiday spirit, I wouldn’t be able to define it, but it’s in the air.

I still believe in Santa because Santa gives me the excuse to give gifts to others.

To think about others and my family more than I usually do.

And that is worth a bit of deception, isn’t it?

And even if this year Santa wears a mask, well, let him.

Online shops will lend him a speedy hand.

And don’t worry about Santa catching the coronavirus before reaching you.

His chimney habits and sky sledging make him good at social distancing or so I’ve heard…

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(c) Image: Patty Vicknair

Another Snowless Christmas

Another snowless Christmas in Bucharest—I’ve gotten used to them, but still… If it wasn’t for the tree mother set up in the living room, the decorations in the shops and on the streets, and the Christmas Market under the Palace of the Parliament, I may not have even noticed the coming and going of Christmas this year.

And yet, Christmas isn’t only about the snow is it?

It’s so much more…

The time spent with family.

The spiritual depth of the event.

The joyful desire of giving and receiving gifts.

Gift-wrapping.

Mulled wine.

Gingerbread houses and figurines.

Mittens and scarves.

People going about the streets in Santa hats.

The cold outside and the warmth inside.

The food, the drinks, the conversations.

The slowing down of time a bit.

The looking back on the year that is about to end.

Christmas is about all these things and more, isn’t it?

Even without snow, there’s something in the air about this time of year…