Thursday, December 22, 2011

if you just believe

my favorite version of santa
Today, I need to talk to you about Santa Clause.
Last night at a ward party, I announced to everyone that I still believe in Santa.
They all rolled their eyes and chuckled - such a Newhouse thing to say.
But honestly, it's basically true.
You may be giving me the same look those people at the party did, but please, let me explain.
I don't remember how old I was when I first believed in Santa Clause. I feel as though I always knew about him. I do remember how old I was when I heard the "truth" about Santa Clause.
I was standing in the kitchen, facing my mother. I had already heard it from someone else, but I had to know, had to ask someone I trusted if it was right. I knew it was, deep down in my soul, but my heart longed for the belief to linger. To stay just a little longer.
There's something about believing in things that makes us stronger. Whether it's Santa, or a crazy theory, or the fact that we can pass a class, or the pure belief in ourselves... just the act of believing in something is an extraordinary talent.
I have heard friends and acquaintances say that they will never tell their children about Santa. They feel that it is "wrong to lie" to the children. This saddens me. 
I did not feel lied to, as I stood there listening to my mother pour out the truth. I felt a certain loss of something intangible, a bit of magic childhood slipping out of me. But I felt something else, the capacity to believe in something get steadier, more reliable.
And that is why I think Santa Clause exists. That is why I still believe in him.

I came across someone's blog a little while ago, and stumbled upon a post where she was explaining how she told her daughter the "truth" about Santa Clause. In a very touching letter, she explains all of my thoughts on the matter, so I will leave you with this:

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.
letter found via

There you have it. Always, always, always, remember the true meaning of Christmas. But also remember to believe.


  1. I have that same santa! He's really soft. And I think you've inspired my next post.

  2. i love this. i still believe in Santa too and I will never stop believing. Santa is the Spirit of Christmas!

  3. Ah! I love this soooooo much! :D Thanks!


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