Growing up, every Christmas morning, my siblings and I would sneak out of bed to see if Santa Claus had visited our home. It was a miracle we knew we could count on every year! Christmas Eve when I was ten years old, my parents were kind enough to paint my room to match my bedding. Because they were painting, I had to sleep in the living room which just happened to be where our fireplace sat. I was so excited for Santa to come, I set up camp right next to the fireplace and waited for the sound of hooves on the roof. When Santa didn't come and we still had gifts to open in the morning, I discovered Santa Claus wasn't a real person. But my life wasn't ruined! I'm twenty-two years old, and I still believe in Santa Claus. Not necessarily the big man in a red suit who travels the world by flying reindeer in one night. But the magic of hope, giving and receiving; the good cheer that Santa brings to both children and adults. Put some trust in the inexplicable. Be open to what Santa stands for and how he makes us feel during the hoidays. You don't need to see a fat man dressed up in a red suit to know the magic of Santa Claus is real. You just need to look around this time of year.
See it? Believing in Santa is easy, I promise.
