Davis Terrell Museum of Art
Growing up, I remember asking, “Is Santa real?” I can even remember we were riding in the car at the time. And I remember the answer from my Mom.
“The spirit of Santa is very much real.”
That sounded like a dodge, but my 8-year old brain couldn’t conclude conclusively anything conclusive, so I stuck by ol’ Santa.
Santa brought stuff. That’s reason to believe right there. Give up believing and you might not get stuff anymore.
In hindsight, I have to say that Santa almost never brought what I wanted, but Mom was able to explain that issue away simply and casually.
“Santa doesn’t have time to make every single thing every single child wants, so he brings what he can.”
That the explanation was so simple made it a pretty good pitch for the Big Man. Certainly good enough for me.
Then it happened.
I was 10 when my best friend Trey asked if I’d like to see the drums Santa was bringing his sister.
I nodded yes, but inside I was screaming, NOOO! I didn’t like it, and I did not want to do this thing. But off we went into the attic to see this shiny drum set, sitting there waiting for a Christmas delivery.
That was gut punch.
The problem was not that I didn’t know, I think I kinda sorta halfway partly did. The problem was that I didn’t want to know for sure.
I wanted to continue to believe. If I’m being honest, I thought - or hoped - my friend was lying. Or maybe badly misinformed.
Today, I can report that I still believe, and it’s because I now understand Santa. His elves all work at Amazon, and on a moment’s notice, his reindeer can turn into a FedEx, UPS or USPS truck.
Part of Santa’s magic.
Bonus: I now get the stuff I ask for. Thanks, Santa!
One Christmas many years ago, Santa brought me a t-shirt with a slogan about believing that still resonates today. It read:
“Everybody needs to believe in something. I believe I’ll have another beer.”
Powerful message.
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Dash away! Dash away! To the fridge down the hall!
