Believe. A piece, inspired.
Christmas brings out the best in people. It's a time when the world slows down and families come together. We hang up twinkling lights to chase away the chill and the darkness. We show people how grateful we are to have them in our lives. But nothing is more heartwarming than seeing Christmas through the eyes of children. We watch them marvel in awe at the magic Christmas brings. We watch them believe. What is it about late December that makes us feel alive? Maybe it's the laughter of loved ones, the warmth of the fire, the coziness of home. Maybe it's the carols and stories of a jolly old man in a red suit landing on our rooftop. But most of all, I think, it's because it takes us back to those days when we believed too. At one time or another, we grew out of Santa and we stopped believing. And a little bit of the magic faded away. But that's the funny thing about Santa -- even if you don't believe in him, he still exists. He still makes a list, and checks it twice. He still delivers presents to good girls and boys. And that's what makes a child's Christmas different than our own -- they still believe. As adults, we relish the moments where children soak in the magic. So I have to ask, did we stop believing in Santa because he stopped bringing us gifts, or did we stop receiving gifts because we stopped believing? If it's not the gifts that bring the magic, then what is it?
I'm going to venture to say, maybe we never stop believing in Santa. In fact, maybe we just call it something different.
Love. Universally sought-after. Frequently allusive. Perpetually frustrating. Infinitely magical. Love. Usually, we're in this world in the first place because of it. We're taught how to love from childhood. We're told stories of great loves, and if we're lucky, we see it in our everyday lives. But like Santa, sometimes we stop believing in it. Why? Do we stop believing in love because we stop receiving it, or do we stop receiving it because we stop believing in it? I think the answer to all of these questions lie in the eyes of a child at Christmas. Though Santa comes but one night a year, a child will believe all year long. It's the belief that he will come back every Christmas that makes him real. Can't the same be said for love?
I don't know about you, but I think these kids are on to something. This Christmas -- in Santa and in love -- I think I'm going to believe.