Believe
I love Christmas. I love Santa. I love decorated trees. I love all the lights and all the yard ornaments, the deer, the snow families, the giant lighted candy canes. It is all festive and exciting.. As a child, I would be breathless with anticipation. Santa was coming! To MY house! I spent hours and hours trying to figure out Santa. My logical self was pretty sure he was my Dad. My heart self wanted him to be this magical mystical Santa who came down chimneys all over the world. I would be extremely concerned that we had no chimney and how would Santa find me. Would he just come through the door? Would he knock first? What if I woke up? Would he vanish in a puff a smoke? (And what would happen if, in all my delirious anticipation, I couldn't GET to sleep?) I knew, if Santa were my Dad, presents would arrive, my cookies would be eaten, the milk glass would be empty. But I still wanted that magical man, Santa Claus. When I was ten, I was convinced that Santa had indeed been real. Christmas morning, I arose early (earlier than our 6:00 in the morning rule – no getting out of bed before 6:00 in the morning), and I peeked out the window in the living room, and there on the ground were two stripes burrowed in the snow. PROOF of sleigh tracks! Never mind that there were no hoof prints of eight tiny reindeer – they are magical beings that float – so no prints. This year, things have happened that take away from the magic. It's been difficult to get into the spirit. But then, I have discovered that Santa does exist – I have my very own personal Santa – you know who you are. One of our bloggers or blurkers sought me out and gave me a gift – but even more, I was given the gift of friendship and love. I am blessed beyond measure! Santa does exist. The magic is in the air. Peace and joy to all this Christmas. ~Jeanie~