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…


(c) Image: Patty Vicknair

Christmas Time

Christmas tree lights isoWhen I was a kid, I used to believe in Santa. Now that I have grown up, I don’t anymore, but I still want to. Because now I need to make up the stories that back then I took for granted. Otherwise the world becomes too small and narrow, too snowless. 

We need Christmas because we need to ask ourselves whether it’s become a commercial holiday, an excuse to go on a gift-buying spree.

We need to worry about buying gifts for people we want to buy gifts for.

We need to expect snow, to long for it, to live without it when it doesn’t come.

We need to drape lights and garlands around our houses and plug them in so they will glow bright in the night.

We need to brace ourselves for family relations and put up with the odd family dinner.

We need to believe that there is something we need to believe in other than the usual, the ordinary, the normal.

And we need to ask ourselves whether we should really cut a tree to hang globes and garlands from its branches, or settle for a fake plastic tree.

I’m not sure I understand the “merry” part in Merry Christmas.

But Christmas brings a change of mood.  It warms up people’s spirits.

We may not believe in Christmas, but then the good thing about Christmas is that it happens anyway every year, whether it snows or not.

Christmas is a whimsy certainty, and that makes it more than bearable, it makes it welcome.

Merry Christmas Everyone! (100-Word Story About Santa)

Santa Claus Painting
Georgi Dimitrov

On Christmas Eve, after nightfall, Santa’s reindeer flew his sleigh straight to the tax collectors’ headquarters, where he dropped a hefty gift through the chimney.

‘Ho, ho, ho!’ shouted Santa, scratching his beard and smiling much pleased with himself.

He had not flown far when an explosion disturbed the night.

‘Merry Christmas you bastards!’ shouted Santa atop his voice.

They had raised the taxes on his toy factory. He had vowed revenge.

Besides, a tax free year was the perfect present for everyone. No need for him to toil all night. He flew straight home to the lovely Mrs. Claus…


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