I Will Always Believe

The children were waiting patiently. As patiently as children can wait. They lined up with Mom, and, or Dad. They were waiting for HIM. The Big Guy. The big, fat guy with the beard and the red suit. He only comes once a year, as they very well know, so, this visit was very important in their young minds. I'm sure each child wondered if they had been naughty or nice the past year. HE knew. As we learn, naughty does not get presents from Santa, only nice. From my untrained parental eye I would put these kids who were in front of me in the ''nice'' column. They sure had a lot of energy and smiles. The only truly great line for a person to wait in is for Santa Claus. I got in line..... Perhaps, because of the recent horrors inflicted on children, I felt the need to be in that line. It was a shopping mall. Recently, a mall was invaded by a madman who destroyed lives. And, the searing horror of an elementary school being the scene of unbelievable carnage and mayhem involving children. This time of the year is for children. There should be no sign of life flexing its cruelty on them. Innocence and sweet joy should be experienced. Not death. We are only young for a blink of an eye and every drop of that youth should be enjoyed to the fullest. Santa Claus has always been the universal sign of that sweetness and joy of life. That glorious, faraway figure in the sky who descends down to bring what he or she most desires, a present. And, wrapped in that present is the spirit of love. Every child is entitled to feel it...... I remember fondly my belief in Santa. I have golden memories of lying in bed and listening closely to the sounds of the roof on our house. There were times when I thought I heard the reindeer land. Santa must be there. Now, I was told to stay in bed all night because you were not supposed to see Santa. That part was magic. He was a phantom, a wonderful image on a childs mind. But, I must confess to falling to curiosity of seeing him in the flesh. I would sneak downstairs and try to catch him. I do not know if we left cookies and millk for him. Knowing my family, it was probably cheeseballs and pizza and gnocchi. I would tiptoe around the presents that were already laid out by my parents----- usually bumping into my brother who was doing the same thing as me---- and see if Santa had been there yet. Alas, the rascal had not shown yet. Up the stairs and back in bed I went, giving him a little more time. He had to be close!!!! The TV news showed his sleigh on the radar!!! He just had to be close!!!!....... Santa was always good to my family. But, even at my young, tender age, I was aware that other children were going without. My Mom and Dad, those angels of good heart and soul, always told us that there were kids in the world who were too poor to receive gifts. I remember watching the late, great Johnny Carson read actual letters from little kids requesting what they wanted for Christmas from Santa. Many of these letters were hilarious, but, many were small cries of pain for any gift from Santa. There was not a dry eye in the house as Carson read these sad pleas, including Johnny himself. I always wondered if Santa would give them gifts. My Mom and Dad skittered around my questions of why these children couldn't get gifts like we all did. It was very wise of Mom and Dad to do this because the truth would be very painful to learn for a child. I thank them for keeping me in blissful denial of reality. However, my parents always made sure that we had those poor kids in our thoughts and prayers. And, typical of Mom and Dad, they gave to charities and organizations who helped the poor and needy. In my childhood, my parents always stressed helping out those less fortunate. Children were front and center to receive help...... Back then, we opened gifts on Christmas morning. We could each open one gift Christmas Eve, but, that was it. Which made sense because Santa came in the middle of the night. It must have happened when I fell asleep for that short time, I would tell myself. I missed him again!!!, Somehow, Santa got in the house and quietly left our gifts and slipped back out without anyone noticing. He would have made a great CIA agent.... In time, the magic and wonder of believing in Santa goes away. Perhaps, this is the first sign for the child that the world is filled with disappointment. That realization that Santa is not real. I was told the full story at whatever age, that Santa was Mom and Dad after all. Somehow, that eased my disappointment because what I did was replace one fictional hero with two very real and more important heroes.....What we have experienced recently with the shooting of children shocked us all to the core of our beings. The senseless and tragic loss of life, all life. The rest of the year is filled with death and bleakness, somehow, someone dying around Christmas seems obscene. Especially, a child. This time of the year is for them. Little kids should be with their friend Santa and not going to funerals and memorial services. The only innocent time in life is when you are a child. There is that wonderful bubble that a child should live in. You are protected, or, you should be. Santa is your reward for being in that bubble..... I'd like to think that a small part of my soul still believes in Santa Clause. The optimist in me, who brushes off the madness that the world can so often bring forth, still holds dear that this far away knight in shining red suit, will grant us our fondest wishes. He will always have us in that protective bubble of youth and fairy tales. Santa Claus, the figure, of course, was not real. Santa Clause, the symbol, will never die in my heart..... The line at the mall moved fairly quickly. Soon, kids were jumping on the lap of Santa's helper and telling him what they wanted for Christmas. Dolls. Trains. A bike. A horse!!!! And, some poorly dressed kids just wanted any gift to open. The spirit of the season was very real that day I went. No death. No shootings. No prejudice or hate. Just the feeling of life. That spirit that flows through all of us everyday. When my time came, obviously, I did not sit on Santa's helper's lap. There were a few jokes exchanged among the adults around us. Humor is one of God's finest creations. Finally, Santa asked me what I wanted for Christmas. The answer, especially now, was simple...... ''Peace On Earth. Goodwill Towards Man''.......