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Yes Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus
I remember the year I almost stopped believing in Santa Claus. In fact, I remember it more than the year when I came to the adult conclusion that Santa was really my mom and grandparents.
The year I almost stopped believing was the year we read The Polar Express for the first time. I must have been about six because Christmases were still spent in New York. I don’t remember how it happened or what I said. But, I do remember coming back to Florida after that Christmas walking into my room and finding a sleigh bell in the track of my sliding glass door. In that moment, Santa and the magic of Christmas lived on for another year. You can never quite describe the magical moments, the feelings you get, but walking into my room and seeing that sleigh bell was one of the most magical moments I had growing up.
Maybe it’s silly, but I still believe that your stuffed animals come out to play at night, that there is a Santa Claus and impossible things can happen.
On this Christmas Eve, may you still believe in the magic of a white Christmas and impossibilities.
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