I believe

I, mother of two boys, tough as nails, raised in East L.A., generation "y"er, believe in Santa Claus. I hadn't believed in the longest time, especially when back in 2001, Jeff and I asked him for babies and he SO didn't deliver that year or the next. But two nights ago, I started believing in him again.

Jeff had been working late all week and would come home for dinner and then head back to the office. On Friday, he decided that he'd take a longer dinner break and we'd go out for a meal. We went to Frisch's and the parking lot was a madhouse. I dropped Jeff and Andy off at the door so they could put our name down, and Ben and I went in search of a parking spot. My parking karma kicked in as it always does (just ask anyone!) and we scored a parking spot in front of the restaurant.

I was taking Ben out of the car and locking it when he started to go nuts. "MOMMY! WOOK! SANTA KWAZ! WOOK, MOMMY! HO HO HO!" I turned around and sure enough, there was a nice old man inside the restaurant who had an uncanny resemblance to the Head Elf. He was getting up from a table inside and putting his jacket on. I was really hoping this guy would have a good sense of humor about my 2 year old's uncontrollable excitement. After all, if you have a real, white beard and a round belly and little eye-glasses that rest on your rosy little cheeks and nose and you go out in public in December, someone is bound to say something.

So we got inside and found Jeff and Andy waiting for a table. I went over to Jeff and said, "You're never going to believe who's here." Just then, the curious old man walked up to the counter and paid for his meal. He turned around and looked right at us and walked over. Ben, of course, could not contain himself and started in again with the whole, "WOOK, MOMMY! SANTA KWAZ! WOOK!"

The smiling, old man looked at Ben and said, "Well, hello there!" Ben said nothing and just sat in awe. At this point, Andy noticed the carbon copy, but had a look in his eyes that told me he was skeptical about him.

I said, "Say, 'Merry Christmas' Benny" and Ben managed to eek out a small, "May Kissmas".

He said, "Merry Christmas to you, too, little guy!" and left.

I had goosebumps. However, they were quickly eradicated by a very suspicious Andy. "That wasn't really Santa Claus, right Mom?"

"Of COURSE it was, Andy! Who else could that have been?" I said.

"Yeah, well why wasn't he wearing his suit?"

Jeff came to the rescue with, "Well, Uncle Matt doesn't always wear his police uniform, does he? That doesn't mean he's not a real police officer."

I added, "Yeah. He was just getting off work from the mall and was hungry. Even Santa Claus needs to eat."

Andy looked very unimpressed with our answers and said, "That wasn't him."

Just then, the old man walked back in and handed the boys each a candy cane. The bespeckled senior winked at Andy, put his finger to Ben's nose and said, "Be good, now, boys" and left. All doubt was gone from Andy's mind.

Now, up to that point, I hadn't been bit by the Christmas bug. Sure, I'd sing along with Christmas songs on the radio and I'd made and addressed holiday cards (although, I still haven't mailed them out yet) but I just hadn't been feeling it. Maybe because we're getting ready to move, maybe it's because we don't have any decorations up (I am NOT packing up an entire house AND decorations) maybe it's because there's some pretty big, bad things going on in the world right now. I don't know.

What I do know, though, is that two nights ago I remembered what it was like to believe. Until that night, I didn't remember believing in Santa and all of the magic that surrounds the season. Because of the kindness and charm of a perfect, sweet stranger, I have a glow in my heart that I plan to keep forever.

I'd like to end this entry with the question of a very curious 8 year old and the answer from a wise newspaper editor:

"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so. Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus? Virginia O'Hanlon 115 West Ninety-Fifth Street"

"VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there.

Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world. You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding. No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Francis Pharcellus Church