The Truth about Santa

No one ever said to me, “Santa isn’t real,” so I still believe in him.  I didn’t even question his veracity until I was 11.  And that’s when my parents told me the truth about Santa Claus: he was much bigger than one jolly, old man.

                “Well no.  There isn’t one man who goes around delivering presents to everyone all in one night,” my mom began in answer to my question.

                “No duh.  That’s impossible,” even I knew that.  I was 11 and not just a kid after all!

                My dad continued, “Santa is the spirit of Christmas.  He represents giving, surprise, anticipation, and cheer.  You can find him lots of places.”

                My mind raced back to all the Santa Clauses I had met in my lifetime.  I remembered all the times during Christmas seasons past when my dad excitedly said to me, “Now that was a real Santa!” after an encounter with a white-bearded man.  In my youth, I glanced over this slightly odd grammar, noticing it but not giving it much attention.  Shouldn’t it be “the real Santa?” I barely thought, happily sucking on a candy cane.   Now it all made sense.

                It wasn’t just a real, yankable, snowy white beard that made a Santa “real”.  A real Santa was the package deal.  Round.  With a twinkle in his eye.  Deep, happy laugh.  And a story. 

                Every year was a quest to find a “real” Santa.  My favorite one was a storyteller.  He spoke with a lyrical Scottish accent.  Instead of his formal red and white suit, he wore a green and yellow flannel shirt under dark blue overalls.  I didn’t mind one bit that I had to stand outside in the freezing cold to listen to his stories.  They were so warm.  And afterward he handed out lollipops.  I think my mom and dad were as enchanted as I was on that evening of shopping.

                Although I didn’t know it back then, this was a turning point in my own awakening.  I was beginning to see that magic was real, even if it wasn’t exactly as it’s written about in books.  No, it’s much more powerful and present than that.  Being aware of the Santa Spirit of Christmas allowed me to tap into it.  I am now an active participant, a co-creator, of the beautiful light that shines during this time of year.  And so are you.  Let’s celebrate!

UPDATE (12/14/12): REAL SANTA SPOTTED! Today I called my mom to wish her a happy birthday.  Before I got a chance to tell her about this blog post, she asked, "Have you seen the Santa at Bridgewater mall?"  I haven't.  "He's a real Santa," she excitedly started to tell me, raving about him.  He had the prerequisite real beard, but as you know it takes more than that to be a real Santa.  When I inquired further she joyfully recounted how patient this jolly old elf was.  My mom marveled at how he took his time with each kid that walked up to sit on his lap.  Even those who seemed the most timid, this Santa took his time with each one until he got them to talk and smile.  Patient and kind sure sounds like the Santa Spirit to me.  My dad couldn't resist chiming in excitedly from the background either, "And he had real rosy cheeks too!"  Both were as excited as kids themselves.  The ability to bring forth one's inner child is what makes real Santas truly special.  Have you seen any real Santas lately?