Santa is Real, Christmas is Real, Any Real Person Can See

I no longer put teeth under my pillow nor am I overly disappointed in the absence of colorful eggs and plastic grass next to my bed Easter morning. Mirror mirror on the wall reminds me I am no Peter Pan, and as long as I have been fishing, I have yet to see a mermaid. Unexpected rainbow sightings no longer cause an immediate search for leprechauns or glowing black pots. Halloween doesn't necessarily have me looking to the sky for brooms, and after years of traveling the world, I give up on any yellow brick road.

It doesn't mean I don't believe. The tooth fairy now has a very nice office and if I am good, I visit sandman while he cares for my teeth. The Easter Bunny sends me to Walmart to dye my own eggs so that more age appropriate children can search for them. Obviously, he believes in self reliance.

And who wants to be young forever anyway, I don't have to eat any vegetable I don't want too. When faced with the choice,  Peter Pan can have eternal youth. Now I enjoy rainbows without the stress or time restraint of finding a tiny guy with an accent and a mobile fortune. Now, that was pressure.

October 31st rolls around and instead of being afraid, I am highly amused. Some years more than others. Japan, New Zealand, Canada, Australia, Jamaica, none have any yellow brick roads. Although I don't remember any flying monkeys the magic was just as real.  Instead, what I found traveling them all, was far greater than any old guy behind a curtain. No offense to anyone who hangs out behind a curtain, of course.

There is one childhood friend that I refuse to let go. Santa is still just as real as he was when I was 6 in flannel pj's and fuzzy socks running from window to window.

I may not leave cookies as much as I once did and my lists may not be quite as long or near as fun but I do look for him every single year.

Come December, I can find him just about anytime I want. I see him ringing a bell to feed the hungry. I watch him open doors for women carrying babies, strollers and the weight of the world. 

He stays up late decorating homes, churches, and even downtown streets. Somehow he softens hearts, fears, and words all the while encouraging dreams, hope, and forgiveness.  

Smiles are a bit warmer, greetings more sincere, and anger seems as likely to stick as snow to our warm southern ground. Anytime I need a  Santa fix a childrens play, letter to Santa, or even giggles over Rudolph are instant cures. What a wonderful time of year to believe.Santa is real, Christmas is real,  any real person can see!  Merry Christmas Beaufort.