Holiday Magic

 I would hate to ruin anyone's Christmas, but forgive me if I speak of a certain carefully guarded secret to which so many of us have at one time or another held fast. If you are of a tender age or temperament, it might be best for you to revisit this post when you are sure you can handle the truth. 

I believe in Santa Claus. 

It surprises me every single time I run into someone who vehemently denies his jolly existence. Take a look around. At this time of year you can scarcely unwrap a candy cane without knocking into some bearded fellow in a red suit.

Santa is everywhere. 

This goes a long way toward explaining how he could be so attuned to your sleep habits, and just how naughty you may or may not have been this year. 

I can understand how many of you maintain your skepticism when you can wander from one mall to another and somehow Mister Claus just happens to have set up a photo op for you and yours just a few storefronts away from the last ersatz North Pole. The answer to this one is quite simple: Beyond all the magic that allows him to visit approximately three hundred million homes in one night, there is a much simpler explanation: Helpers. 

Santa has a legion of folks whom he affords the great honor and trust to carry out all of his many and varied duties over the course of the holiday season. I have made no secret of the fact that my father was one of those lucky enough to wear the beard and bells in service to his fellow man. And the child inside of him. Over the course of several winters, he donned the raiment of the owner of eight tiny reindeer, and set about spreading cheer and season's greetings wherever he appeared. I love my father for that. 

Which is why, when I was asked if I would like the chance to help out at my school by dressing up as Santa Claus, I balked. A large part of me felt the call, my father's voice egging me on. There was another equally insistent voice that worried that my appearance, even though I was told by our admin assistant that I "have the belly for it," might set off alarms among some of our more dubious youngsters. Being "made" by a five year old and becoming the reason for the magic to dissipate in any way left me feeling highly ambivalent about taking the gig. 

As luck or simply the way things work around this time of year, it turns out that Santa will be making an appearance at our school just before Winter Break. It won't be me. And you'll forgive me if I suggest that it could be the real deal showing up. Because I still believe.