5 of 24

Write now Article Tools

The Santa Question
This wasn't how it was supposed to go down. The question was all wrong, the place was all wrong. The little boy behind us was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I looked back at his father who shook his head in resignation. The crowd was thick around us, as my grandson once again asked the offending question, "Paw, is Santa Clause real."

Just outside of Charlotte North Carolina, the Rev. Jim Bakker had forged a kingdom, a mighty theme park that drew many believers into its premises. My young grandson Chris and I were part of this crowd, as were the small boy and his parents who walked behind us.

For the moment I pretended not to hear the request of my grandson. Time to reflect on the impact my answer could have on the small boy behind us.
He looked to be preschool, and looking back I saw the anguish in the eyes of his parents.

In my mind I recalled an earlier Christmas. A Christmas when Chris may have been just the age of the young boy behind us. My wife pondered the outcome of continuing the childhood myth of Santa.

She spoke with concern, "Terry, what do we tell him when he finds out
it's all a lie." My reply was jaded but true, "Honey, Chris will be lied to his whole life, let him enjoy this one for a while."

This wasn't the answer she was looking for. "Terry I'm serious, there will be a time you'll have to tell him the truth. How can he trust us after that."
My reply was "Lucky, people don't always tell people the gospel truth. Hey, honey, your hairs a mess and that outfit is a joke. Little white lies make the world a better place to live in." The question was laid to rest, but now the moment of testing was now about to happen.

Words were aligning themselves inside my head. Tumbling over
themselves in disarray. I did what any sane person would do. I prayed and I prayed hard. Father, give me the words that ring true for Chris, and speak in kindness for the little boy behind us.

Within moments the words inside my head had aligned themselves into coherent thoughts. I knew what I had to say.

For the third time Chris asked the question. I spoke in a reassuring manner, "Chris, that's a good question, but it's the wrong question." Chris looked at me with a puzzled look.

I spoke again, "Chris, do you think Santa loves you." Chris shook his head in acceptance. "And Chris, were you ever naughty when you should have been nice. Again Chris nodded his head in agreement.
"Santa still loved you cause you were trying to be good. He gave you presents

• 1
• 2
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about The existence of Santa Claus?
We want to hear your view. Write now!