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The Prose of a Confused Poet-You Bettter Watch Out

This the full version of my little Christmas story that I ran in the NFLM-

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You Better Watch Out… (703 words)

I felt like banging a shovel against my friend’s head when he casually mentioned to me that he told his ten-year old daughter that there was no such thing as Santa Claus. He confessed to her that it was Mom and Dad who put the presents under the tree. He further crushed her childhood fancy by stating that Santa Claus was make believe, meant only for little boys and girls, and now that she was a big girl she didn’t need to believe any of that nonsense.

He told me he didn’t want her friends to make fun of her and that she needed to grow up. He wanted her to be just like him, one unimaginative dullard. Instead of splitting open his head, I just gave him a baleful stare. Hitting him would just get me arrested, and besides maiming the fool would put me on Santa’s naughty list.

For the record let me state emphatically that yes, there is a Santa Claus, a Mrs. Claus and a colony of elves making toys under his direction, and they all live in the North Pole.

An insanely bold and delusional statement you ask, maybe, maybe not. In this multi-universe of ours anything is possible. I firmly believe if you imagine it, then it exists, somewhere, here, there, and everywhere, in the myriad realities that are possible, and the ones that we choose to make real, in this magical cauldron of creation.

My most cherished and joyful Christmas was eighteen years ago, a night that I fondly remember with wonder and cheer.

It was a cold wintry night near the shores of Long Island. My wife, Virginia, and myself, always celebrate Christmas Eve with her sister, husband and two children. A good time is always had by all.
Their youngest child, Heather, was ten at the time. She still was a firm believer in Santa and her excitement and happiness at his coming arrival was infectious. She kept going outside on the porch looking up at the night sky, hoping to get a view of Santa on his sleigh. We told her it was too early for Santa to come, for all had to be quiet and asleep so that He could put presents under the tree without interruption. She was too excited to listen and kept on going outside hoping against hope that Santa would light up the night sky. And then the magic happened.

I was outside with Heather joining in on her sky watch when a shooting star fell through the sky. Heather wailed with glee, for to her, that star, was no star, but Santa on his sleigh. The pure joy and wonder on her face was beyond description. The veil from my eyes and ears was lifted, and I too heard Santa’s Ho! Ho! Ho! My mind did a back-flip, and what I perceived just seconds ago as a shooting star; I now saw in my mind’s eye, Santa on his sleigh with Rudolph leading the way, the power of belief can be a wondrous thing.

Unlike my friend’s father, Heather’s father encouraged his daughter’s imagination and Santa fancies. He told her it was time to put the cookies under the tree for Santa to see, and time for bed so he could safely land his sled. He told me I experienced Santa magic, and he only wished that he was also outside with Heather and me.

We all need to keep the Magic alive. That night; my ten-year old niece made me once again believe that Santa, the elves, and all other magical things, exist in the far off fairylands in the dimensional rifts of our imaginations. What is not real in this reality exists forever in another.

It was a Christmas to remember, and unlike that little girl whose wonder of Santa’s sliding down the chimney was ripped out of her heart by a well intentioned but unimaginative father, that wonder and magic of Christmas still exists for the now twenty-eight year old Heather. She knows the difference between the reality of this world and the one that dances throughout her heart and mind.

Merry Christmas Everyone, Ho! Ho! Ho!


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