I think it’s time we talk about Santa. Because honestly, I love the guy.
I love him as St. Nicholas, aka Nicholas the Wonderworker, a fourth-century Christian saint and protector of sailors, orphans, prisoners, and everyone in between, whose prayers brought about miracles and whose secret gift-giving is the origin of our Christmas tradition.
I love the evolution of St. Nicholas during the Middle Ages to the white-bearded patron saint of children, whose generosity and magical powers are still celebrated in Europe on his feast day, December 6.
I love the jolly, grandfatherly Old St. Nick that Clement Clarke Moore created in his 1822 poem, “The Night Before Christmas,” which he wrote for his six children and which became a tradition in and of itself. And I love France’s Père Noël and England’s Father Christmas, who over time replaced the Grimm’s Fairy Tales versions of St. Nicholas that haunted Europe since medieval times.
Whether your version of Santa is scary or sweet, I think we can all agree it wouldn’t be Christmas without him. There are mall Santas, store Santas, chocolate Santas, and inflatable Santas; Santa pajamas, Santa sweaters, Santa hats, even Santa socks; movie Santas, TV Santas, Elf Yourself Santas, and books full of Santas. We even have a wine-stopper that when used places Santa black-boots-up into a bottle of holiday Cabernet.
My favorite Santa of all, though, is the one we told our children about when they started to question whether Santa is real. I remember the conversation clearly, our elementary-school-aged daughter sitting with me on the stairs, trying to reason out how one man can deliver presents to every single person in the world in just one night. She tried hard to make it work, but ultimately had to ask: “Do you believe in Santa?”
My response was an unequivocal yes. A couple of years later I told my questioning son the same thing, and even today, I don’t regret the lie.
We have to believe in something, after all. I just happen to put my faith in a jolly old elf and his eight tiny reindeer whose only job it is to spread joy one night a year.