I do believe, I choose to believe

Its that time of the year – and boy oh boy am I a sucker for the Christmas season. I lap up every carols by candle light, every shiny bauble on the tree, every opportunity to shop for gifts that will excite and delight and even though its just a month  – its the best month of the year for me .

I have a dear friend who hates the very notion of Christmas. She would rather disappear to a secluded island (I think she wants to go looking for Arrow truthfully) for the month , than expose herself to the dreaded cheer and commercialization of the festive season.

My heart melts every time I hear her talk in this way. You see even in my “older” age I still have a deep desire to believe in Father Christmas. I love the idea of a kind man generously giving to others and making dreams come true. I love the excitement on xmas eve, where even the slightest noise could be him, sliding down my chimney, to deliver my hearts desires.

I hold onto the memory of that night I saw the clouds across the moon, on xmas eve, many years ago and I am still adamant they weren’t clouds at all ….but the shadow of The man himself, riding his sleigh , all reindeers leading from the front.

I choose to believe in Father Christmas because he symbolises giving, love, family unity and excitement. So you can imagine my devastation when my 9 year old daughter asked me if Santa was real or was it me ?

After discussions with my respected elders, I was given this letter to copy and give to my daughter. I am not ready to give it to her this year, I feel she can still be convinced that he is real … but I fell in love with the words this mother wrote and know you will love it too.

So whether you use it for your questioning children or you use it as a symbol of the power of believe and choose – it doesnt matter , just take the time to read it !

Written by Martha Brockenbrough.  marthabee.com.

Dear Lucy,

Thank you for your letter. You asked a very good question: “Are you Santa?”

I know you’ve wanted the answer to this question for a long time, and I’ve had to give it careful thought to know just what to say.

The answer is no. I am not Santa. There is no one Santa.

I am the person who fills your stockings with presents, though. I also choose and wrap the presents under the tree, the same way my mom did for me, and the same way her mom did for her. (And yes, Daddy helps, too.)

I imagine you will someday do this for your children, and I know you will love seeing them run down the stairs on Christmas morning. You will love seeing them sit under the tree, their small faces lit with Christmas lights.

This won’t make you Santa, though.

Santa is bigger than any person, and his work has gone on longer than any of us have lived. What he does is simple, but it is powerful. He teaches children how to have belief in something they can’t see or touch.

It’s a big job, and it’s an important one. Throughout your life, you will need this capacity to believe: in yourself, in your friends, in your talents and in your family. You’ll also need to believe in things you can’t measure or even hold in your hand. Here, I am talking about love, that great power that will light your life from the inside out, even during its darkest, coldest moments.

Santa is a teacher, and I have been his student, and now you know the secret of how he gets down all those chimneys on Christmas Eve: he has help from all the people whose hearts he’s filled with joy.

With full hearts, people like Daddy and me take our turns helping Santa do a job that would otherwise be impossible.

So, no. I am not Santa. Santa is love and magic and hope and happiness. I’m on his team, and now you are, too.

I love you and I always will.

Mama

 

Source :  http://www.cozi.com/live-simply/truth-about-santa

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