By Brandi Mitchell
Web Content Contributor
When you think of Christmas, you think of decorated trees, of holiday festivities, of family and of food. But among these pleasant images, many people often think of a jolly elderly fellow who delivers gifts at midnight to all the children of the world.
A fellow who goes by the name of Claus. Santa Claus.
Scour the songs and poems for mention of this mysterious man and you will find him referenced in a plethora of Christmas tunes.
An eyewitness account from “The Night Before Christmas” can be quoted as saying, “His eyes how they twinkled! His dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry; His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.”
What a description! And what luck that one of our only eyewitnesses was so delightfully poetic in his rendition.
White beard, bow mouth, cherry nose man. That is the Santa Claus that inspires children to laugh with glee.
Our eyewitness seems rather fond of his first impression of Santa, rather untroubled that reindeer landed on his roof with no concern of exterior damage or caution over a stranger wandering into his home.
In fact, it can be said of nearly the entire world that for one night a year even highly cautious people are overjoyed at a plump man they have never met squeezing down a chimney they may or may not even have and leaving “gifts” scattered in their living rooms.
“Gifts” highly personalized to them, though they have never had a single conversation with this- dare I say sketchy- magical cherry nosed man.
Any other day of the year, a rotund guy in a red velvet suit that has never been in style in all of history, dropping into someone’s fireplace in the middle of the night would be considered an intrusion.
And this same bow mouth man leaving gifts specific to every person in the household despite an utter lack of any semblance of a relationship would hesitantly be considered creepy, or even stalking.
But this is the magic of Christmas.
Perhaps you believe yourself to be a skeptic, and say, “this Claus man has never been proven to be a real fellow!” And maybe you, alarmed person, have a point.
You will be labeled “Scrooge” or the “Grinch,” and an entire song may be written with the cruel exaggeration that you should not be touched with even “a 39-and-a-half foot pole” if you dare speak out against this Santa man.
It is necessary to also note that a ballad was written accusing his reindeer of running over an elderly woman – with no backlash from the police that he may very well have bought off with his mob-like gang of elves.
But I say it is perhaps, reasonable to question whether an elderly figure owning eight magical flying reindeer with the stamina to cover the globe in a single night exists or not.
Or perhaps, people just find this story of Christmas magic quietly comforting, and the truth is not what the world is even seeking.
Perhaps people just need one night a year to believe in the impossible happening, and analyzing the logistics is entirely missing the point.
Perhaps in December, one can find solace in the belief that this same elderly fellow runs a near sweatshop of tiny people who surely are not paid minimum wage and are forced to make toys for 7 billion people.
Solace in this man who manages to pack seven billion people’s toys into what must surely be an enormous bag but then worries about the fog on Christmas Eve. Until he finds one more magical flying reindeer that happens to have a tiny red light on his nose and decides Christmas needn’t be canceled that year.
Solace in this man they have never met, yet trust to break into their homes and not murder any of them in their restful, sugar plum dreaming sleep.
Solace in the fact that this man labels everyone “naughty” and delivers them coal if they question his existence or the rationale and ethics of his business.
Which reminds me, if you’re reading this, Santa, I believe in you and I think what you’re doing is fabulous. Merry Christmas!
Featured image by CircaSassy via Creative Commons.