When I was a kid, every afternoon after school I watched a
children’s television program called the Trooper
Terry Show. Trooper Terry always had
special games and lessons for children. He
was the local version of Captain Kangaroo or Mr. Rogers, and a hero for me and
my peers. During the Christmas season, Trooper Terry had
a remote feed; of course I didn’t know it was called that at the time, from the
North Pole. I guess the reception was
not very good in Augusta, Georgia all the way from Santa’s castle because the
picture was often a bit “snowy.”
At the appointed time during the program, Trooper Terry would put
his finger beside his nose and instruct us all to do the same. We would all nod our heads, and then,
magically, Santa Claus appeared on the television screen. He would talk to us, and then read a few of
the letters he received from the children in our town. For me and my friends it was one of the most
highly anticipated television events of the season. Of course, every year I wrote my letter and
addressed it to Santa in care of Channel 6, the local television station. And, he always received my letter. I don’t recall that he ever read mine on the
show, but I always knew that he got it. How else would he have known what to bring me?
Every Christmas Eve, I would lovingly prepare a plate of fruitcake,
not cookies (my mother made fruitcake every year) and pour a glass of milk to
leave for Santa. And, every Christmas
morning I would awaken before sunrise to discover that he had eaten the fruitcake. He had also drank the milk and left me all
sorts of wonderful toys. I never really
understood how he managed to get to all the houses in the world on one night,
or how he could possibly eat all the goodies that so many children left out for
him, and it never mattered how: it only mattered that I believed. It was a magical time of year.
(SPOILER ALERT)
As I grew older and heard stories about the real identity of Santa
Claus, I felt disappointed and sad. I
wondered how my parents and so many other adults could lie to their children
and convince them to believe in someone who is not real. It seemed like a cruel hoax. I accepted the fact that I had been duped and
stopped writing my letters. I no longer
believed. I lost the magic of Christmas.
Years later, as I began to truly question why the myth of Santa
Claus has endured, I discovered a deeper truth about him. He is the archetype of the spirit of
Christmas. The depiction of Santa Claus
as the jolly old elf in a bright red, fur-trimmed suit sprang from the
imagination of writers and artists, but this image represents some of the best
qualities inherent in each of us - generosity, prosperity, giving and joy. Santa is the personification of these
qualities of our Divine Nature. He has
endured in our hearts and minds because he reminds us of who we truly are. Santa Claus gives us the opportunity, even if
only for a few weeks, days or hours each year, to behold aspects of our true
selves.
Today, I believe. I believe
that Santa Claus is each and every one of us.
I believe that we can choose to allow his images to remind us of the
magic we all possess. I believe that we
can embrace the spirit of Christmas and share joy, give love, and extend
kindness to people everywhere, not just during this season, but 365 days a
year.
It has been years since I wrote a letter to Santa, but I am going
to do it this year. My letter will be a
bit different from the ones I wrote as a child.
I will not ask for toys, or a bike, not even a new puppy. In my letter this year, I will ask Santa to
bring food, clothing, and shelter to all people everywhere. I will ask him to bring love to every
home. I will ask him to bring peace to
the hearts of all humankind, thereby bringing peace to the world.
Now that I know who Santa Claus really is; now that I know that he
lives in the hearts and minds of each of us, I trust that he will receive my
letter, and I believe that he will deliver everything I ask for.
I pray that you will join me.
Let’s embrace the true spirit of Christmas and do our part to bring the
magic of the season to the lives of children everywhere.
Wishing you a magical Christmas season,
David
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