There’s something magical about December – the wish come true, the miracles, the make beliefs, the gifts that Santa comes bearing. December is one crazy month when we willingly suspend all our disbeliefs and wait for miracles, or our wish come true moments. It’s one lazy dreamy month when the heart refuses to do anything but wonder. And endlessly watching Christmassy movies and shows (that I do) adds to the charm!
The gifts that Santa brings or would once leave in our stockings. Even then as little kids we knew that it was our parents but chose to believe otherwise. All grown up now, wiser and logical, I know that Santa doesn’t exist, and all that magic is as fantastical as fantasy, but somewhere in my heart there’s still a little girl who likes to hold on to the magic. Last night I almost hung my stockings by the bedside hoping that Santa would drop by.
That’s something about Christmas, and therein lies the festivals universal appeal. Though it’s the most important religious event for Christians celebrating the birth of Christ, all that wish fulfillment and the legendary Santa and his gifts and elves and reindeer, makes the festival more secular. As a girl I went to a Catholic School, singing Christmas carols and quite enjoying them. My stockings would be filled with little gifts like pencils, little toys and toffees that would delight me. I would imagine that Santa Claus riding his magical reindeer actually stopped by my window while I would hug my parents happily. Mom would bake a cake that we would decorate with gems and have a cozy Christmas at home.
Growing up the gifts stopped for the legendary Santa Claus, or Father Christmas as he is also called, brings toys or candies only for little children depending on how naughty or nice they have been through the year. He comes in the dead of the night on Christmas Eve on his sleigh overloaded with gifts drawn by flying reindeer. It is said that his army of elves makes these gifts through the year somewhere in cold freezing North Pole. Santa Claus is the magical rendition of Saint Nicholas, a 4th-century Greek Christian bishop somewhere in the Roman Empire, who was famous for his generous gifts to the poor.
As we grow up the magic fades, we become more realistic hence Santa doesn’t stop by. Also as children we are easier to please. Imagine Santa leaving candies and scented erasers by our bedside. We would probably throw those back at him.
Santa Claus is a bedtime story for little children I tell myself as I enjoy as I enjoy the many Christmas shows and chronicles and seep in the spirit. It is all a fairy tale says my logical self but a little girl in me holds on to the magic hoping for miracles. And that’s so fantastic about December!
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