Reason To Believe

by Brendan Smith
Weirs Times Editor

I still believe in Santa Claus.
At the same time, I’m not entirely sure that he really exists.
Still, I am of the mind that I shouldn’t dismiss anything as false unless it is absolutely proven to me that something is or isn’t.
It has never been proven to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that Santa Claus isn’t real. It has only been suggested to me by a bunch of other people who believe he doesn’t exist solely on the information that has been handed down to them by other people whose only proof of this is the word of other people who were, in turn, told by others.
In some circles this is known as the Great Santa Claus Conspiracy.
No one, it seems, ever has had positive proof that Santa Claus does not exist. So, I am not one to fall easily for the conspiracy. I will always hold onto that inkling of hope in my head that he does.
After all, if the guy actually shows up one day holding a bagful of treats just for me, he might call me on my disbelief and turn around and leave with the goods.
(I do have to throw in here, that even for the sake of political correctness, I will never assume that Santa Claus, if he exists, might be a woman. All lines must be drawn somewhere.)
When I was a kid, Santa Claus always came to our house on Christmas Eve with a pillowcase full of toys. I was always in awe and for years was so mesmerized by the whole scene that I never thought twice about where Santa went once he left our house.
One year, when I was maybe seven or eight, I was becoming more curious about Santa. Some kids at school were touting the possibility of his non-existence.
It was a confusing time.
That Christmas Eve, amongst all the hubbub in the house upon his arrival and departure of Santa (there were six of us kids, two parents, two grandparents and a dog, so there was always a fair amount of Christmas Chaos) I slipped through the crowd unnoticed and made my way out the front door.
Expecting to see Santa on his sled, or at least walking down the street to wherever he parked it, instead I saw him make a sharp left and come back into our house through the side door.
Wending my way back through the pile of wrapping paper that was building up on the living room floor, I casually headed towards the kitchen where the entrance of the side door led to.
No one seemed to notice my movements.
Once in the kitchen, I peeked down the stairs to the basement. The lights were on and there was noise. Someone was down there.
Santa!
I tiptoed down the steps and peeked around the corner into the laundry room. Standing there, undressing from his Santa outfit, was my grandfather.
He turned and saw me. A slight smile came over his face and, without missing a beat, began to explain that Santa was very busy and he was acting as his helper.
I must admit he was pretty convincing. Still, combined with all of the stories I was hearing at school from my friends, my confidence in Santa Claus had taken a huge hit.
I didn’t know it at the time, but this was to be my first real disappointment in a long line. Age and more wisdom showed me that more and more people were just pretending to be someone they weren’t. They were playing fictional characters, people we really want to believe in, but sure to disappoint later. This is especially true in politics and with anything having to do with a lot of money.
But age and wisdom also proved to me that many others tried hard to be someone it was increasingly harder to be in this crazy world: almost fictional characters who were honest, reliable, responsible, hard working and self sufficient.
People like that always give me an inkling of hope for the world and that’s why I can’t completely give up on the idea of Santa Claus, no matter what the conspiracy folks think.
The poor guy and his elves, also great role models, work hard all year making presents for people they hardly even know. Then Santa spends twenty-four hours circling the globe, stuffing himself down chimneys, making sure everyone gets what they asked for. It doesn’t matter what the weather is and all he eats during this entire, selfless ordeal is some cookies and hot chocolate that has been sitting out for hours and is lukewarm at best.
He never asks for anything for himself, never complains and he does it all with a big smile and a hearty laugh, year after year after year.
It makes sense that as he got older he would need some helpers.
Who wouldn’t?
So maybe my grandfather did know the guy.
People will tell you it’s crazy to believe in Santa Claus if you are an adult.
I disagree.
I think he is a great role model and we need more people like Santa.
Merry Christmas!!