Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Don't Stop Believing

This week, we have a guest blogger - my husband.  He is an engineer, which you normally don't associate with creative writing, but he found something so beautiful it made me cry.  I am sharing it because our country is shrouded in sadness right now, as we once again face the death of innocents, the destruction of futures, the pain of blame and loss.

Now is not the time to stop believing in good or God, now is the time to fight back with love.

Here's the letter my husband gave to our son, who accidentally learned there was no Santa Claus:

I wanted to write a note to you about who is Santa since you have been asking about it and it’s easier for me to choose my words correctly by writing it down. You asked a very good question: “Is there a Santa and are your Mom and Dad 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. We are not Santa. There is no one Santa.

We are the people who fill your stockings with presents, though. We also choose and wrap the presents under the tree, the same way our parents did for us.

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 we 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 Mommy and me take our turns helping Santa do a job that would otherwise be impossible.

So, no. We are not Santa. Santa is love and magic and hope and happiness. We are on his team though, and now you are, too.

We love you and we always will.

Mom and Dad

Until next time, keep crowin' and praying for those who need God to hold their hand a little tighter tonight.

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