Is Santa Claus Real? . . . I want the Truth.
Of course Santa is real. I knew it from the time I was born. I keep telling my kids, but the Scribe (my nine-year-old) stopped believing when she ate Thanksgiving turkey this year. I don't know if it's because I cooked it wrong--or what. And that coal-loving kid refused to believe anything I said after that!
I heard her talking with her seven-year-old sister, the Hippie yesterday.
"Santa isn't real," she said. "Have you ever seen him? Why does Santa look different in each mall?"
"Because there are fakers in this world," the Hippie said, then she whispered. "Santa is real, but there is something funny going on . . . If you want to know the truth, I don't believe in elves."
"What?" the Scribe asked like it was sacrilege.
"Yeah, it just doesn't make sense. Why would Santa hire a bunch of elves, when he could use leprechauns instead? The only thing elves are really good at, is making shoes. Think about it; we got more than sneakers last Christmas. When things don't add up, you know there's something fishy going on."
The Scribe--that doubter--thought about it. "I haven't wanted to say anything, but I still want to believe in Santa. I just don't have any proof that he is or isn't real." She paused then. "Maybe people want kids to doubt Santa, so we won't doubt the lies about the elves."
"Exactly," the Hippie said."But if I were you, I wouldn't tell this to anyone else. Last year, Jimmy Smith said he didn't believe in Santa and a bunch of kids chased him down at recess."
"Oh yeah! I remember that," the Scribe said. "That was a Christmas to remember."
I thought about it, since I remembered too. The day poor Jimmy almost got burned at the stake. I walked into the room after their conversation ended. "I have to confess, I've been listening and I think you two are absolutely right. Those elves don't make sense, but leprechauns, that's much better. It's obvious when you think about it."
"Yep," the Scribe said again. "I bet jolly, old Santa doesn't want kids knowing because everyone would rush to the North Pole to catch themselves a leprechaun. Who cares if Santa gave you coal, you'd have a live leprechaun to grant your wishes. That's way better than Christmas."
"So true," the Hippie nodded.
"You both still believe in Santa again?"
They nodded their pretty, little heads and I felt the magic of Christmas coming alive in MY heart once again.
"We believe in Santa," the Scribe said, "but we know there are better things out there now. Mama, can you tell us, how do you get to the North Pole?"
So, here's my closing question:
Who cares if you believe in Santa . . . Do you really think he hires elves?