Aye, Wee Bairns There is a Santa and It is Within You!

The author and his first visit to Santa’s grotto

Professor Joe Goldblatt

In 1897 the editor of the Sun newspaper in New York city Frances Phracellus Church answered a letter from a wee girl named Virginia O’Hanlon. Some of her skeptical friends had said that Santa was a fantasy and did not exist. She asked her father for clarification and he said “If you see it in the Sun, it’s true!” This prompted her to write her letter to Church and his answer of hope became immortal.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

-Francis Pharcellus Church, Editor, The New York Sun, 1897

In all the succeeding Christmas seasons, as a Jewish man who portrayed Santa hundreds of times, I know this to be true. For example, one year there was a wee boy named Matthew whose father had suddenly left his mother and he was now without his dad that Christmas. I was scheduled to appear on the radio as auld St Nick and after getting fully dressed in my Santa suit and beard I noticed I had misread my watch and I was an hour early for my scheduled interview.

How does one use the surprise gift of an extra hour of time? I decided to use mine by visiting Matt. I skipped up the lane with my bells jingling all the way. I looked through his front window and noticed he was sitting by the fireplace and I rang his doorbell. He looked back at me and with trepidation opened the door. I pushed lightly and walked into his living room and sat upon his father’s now empty chair.

I invited Matt to climb upon my knee and he obliged. Then I noticed his mother looking out at me from her kitchen. She was smiling and gave me a sly wink which I returned.confidentially

“Matt”, I asked the wee fellow, “Do you know you are the luckiest little boy in the world?” He shook his head from side to side and I nodded my head in return up and down.

“Oh yes you are! Every year I visit millions of children all over the world and bring them many toys. But you already have the greatest of all gifts. You have a mummy and daddy who love you. These are among the greatest gifts in the world. Matt, you are the luckiest little boy in the world this Christmas!”

Matt appeared to be awe struck and then I helped his mother by saying “Matt, I promise to return with your presents. I need you to go to bed early this Christmas eve, ’round about 5pm would good, so I may come to your house first!” He quickly nodded his head up and down and as I rose to make my exit I noticed his mother blew a silent kiss in my direction as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Old Santa then took his magic to the local radio station where he was interviewed by a host who truly believed in the magic of Christmas and we took calls from dozens of children. One of those children was my own son Max, age eight.

When I arrived home I stealthily slipped by his closed bedroom door to enter my own room to transform from having been Santa to once again become Papa. As I tiptoed down the long hall I heard Max’s door open and the patter of little feet running behind me. In a forceful voice I heard Max shout in an accusatory tone “Papa! You lied to me! You are Santa Claus!”

When I turned around his face was beet red and giant tears were flying from his eyes. I knew I had to act quickly. I led him by the wee hand into the lounge and pulled him upon my knee and explained in a soft voice “Max, you are right.”

Then I further told him “Max this red suit and white beard has nothing to do with being Santa Claus. Santa is a feeling you have deep in your heart and it does not appear only once per year. It is something you can practice every day. Being Santa is about caring about others, it is about love, kindness, and generosity. You can do this every day!”

He still looked at me with skepticism, similar to the friends of wee Virginia nearly one hundred years earlier.

One month later, on a Saturday morning, I was replacing a lamp on my front porch when Matthew came skipping up the pavement asking for Max. I shouted “Max, your friend Matt is here.” Then I decided to test my Santa theory and the philopsophy of Francis Pharcellus Church.

“Matt” I asked confidentially, “Did you have a nice Christmas? Did anything special happen/”

Matt jumped up and down and said with glee “Oh yes! Santa came to my house one week early!”

When I told him this was impossible because Santa is busy in his workshop preparing for his deliveries Matt challenged my by saying “I promise he came to my house first! He told me that I am the luckiest little boy in the world!”

When eight year old Max finally appeared he further validated my belief by taking a place behind Matt and as Matt continued to blether on about his visit with Santa Max simply quietly raised his chin, looked me in the eye with his bright blue eyes, and gave me a huge conspiratorial wink!”

The following year I returned to the radio station and this time I had help. Max’s four year old younger brother Sam asked if he could accompany Santa. I dressed him as a wee elf and off we went to try and bring some Christmas magic to our young listeners.

The radio station host asked Sam what his name was and to my surprise and delight he said “I am Squeaky the elf!” When the host then asked what Squeaky did to help Santa he said with pride “I pack all the toys for the boys and girls.”

I looked at him and remembered the final words in that 1897 editorial in the Sun …

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

This festive season, as I watch through the widnow of my own now ancient skepticism, the commercialisation and rampant consumption all around us I am reminded that deep within each of my fellow human beings is the capacity to love, to be generous and help others, and not just at this time but all year long. This is what it truly means to be Santa and thousands of years from now, lang may oor lums reeks (long may it last)!

Professor Joe Goldblatt is Emeritus Professor of Planned Events at Queen Margaret University. His views are his own. To learn more about his views visit www.joegoldblatt.scot