by M. Velasco

Created on: December 12, 2008

I was driving my co-workers to an office Holiday Party the other day when my co-worker asked me, "How old were you when you first realized Santa Claus didn't exist?" In my mind I wanted to stomp on my car brakes, rush the car to the curb, turn around and scream, "What do you mean Santa Claus doesn't exist?" Of course, in a very adult and rational manner I kept my calm, glanced at him through my rear view mirror and said, "What are you talking about? He still exists." He, in turn, replied with a nod knowing that any other response would very well lead to what I had described earlier.

It may seem very strange that, in my late-20s, proclaiming the words, "I still believe in Santa Claus." may sound adolescent, but saying it proudly does not invite a snicker or insult toward me but rather a sense of acceptance. This acceptance is one that allows me to believe what I want to believe because I stand so confident in that belief.

This is where the image of Santa Claus is today. It lays within the belief that he exists. Since childhood and to this very day we hear stories about some large jolly man who masks a white beard covering ninety percent of his face, wearing a red suit and carrying a large bag with items that would bring joy to any sad face. Unfortunately in describing such a person and given no previous myth, tale, or story of the one many know as Santa Claus, such description would be taken so negatively and reported on the evening news. Once again, Santa Claus is someone who exists if we have that previous knowledge of such existence.

I may have not have received many or any of the gifts I once wrote to Santa. He may have not taken a bite of my Oreo cookies or drank the milk I left for him at night, but I did find comfort that when I turned on the news there was always a Santa bringing a smile to someone, specifically a child, who deserved it more than I did.

I currently work with teenagers who mock me for the mere mention of Santa Claus. One co-worker informed me that when she was at the age of our teenagers she questioned the existence of Santa Claus because she grew up in a cramped apartment where there was no chimney. We all grew up with stories about how he would land on the roofs of homes and slide down the chimneys, but for those kids who do not have such a home, the stories of Santa Claus was simply that: a story.

I was not happy hearing such news. Growing up I lived in a home with a fireplace, but my father had covered it to prevent birds from perching and deficating on our roof. Still, a part of me knew Santa would make his way down the chimney, thanks to cartoons and television movies that made Santa appear almost maleable in shape and spirit. Plus, it was helpful to have parents who allowed me to believe and allow my imagination to stretch a story or two so that I can believe.

As the years progressed and my maturity level balanced out, Santa has been everything from someone jolly and joyful to the worst example of obesity facing society today. Regardless of these stories and arguments, people today will believe as much as they want to believe, so long as we are given that freedom to do so. There will be no protest against his existence, there will be no public humilation of a figure we can not provide proof of existence. Instead, cultures across the world exchange stories of what was, has, and always be, of the how one man came to town, riding a sleigh dragged by flying reindeers, with the help of the one reindeer that had a very shiny nose.

If you ask me again, I will tell you, Santa Claus exists now and far into the 20th Century, so long as I allow him to and no one can take that away from me.

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