Posted on 22 Dec, 2011 -
Why Father Christmas is a half-weight
Yes. I am accusing Father Christmas of only doing half the job that needs doing
Which yes… yet again… leaves ME having to do everything around here!
Oh… and… A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
Dear Reader,
Santa, as far as I’m concerned, only does half of the job he ought to.
Sure, it’s a wonderful idea that every single girl and boy around the world gets a present. But… WHAT ABOUT ALL THE ADULTS??
After all, what do kids do compared to adults?! Cute and cuddly they may be, but have you seen how bad they are at washing up or carrying the gravy boat to the table?!
A big well done and a pat on the head to every single adult out there
Right now there are more than 7 billion human beings living on this planet and every single one of us is individually astonishing.
Not one of us has an easy life. Not one of us doesn’t live almost constantly with some kind of stress or trouble. But we all carry on.
And we don’t just carry on. We carry on so beautifully. So bravely. So astonishingly uniquely.
Everything we do we have decided to do ourselves. Even the worst at coping among us do an amazing job of coping, at keeping themselves alive.
Pour yourself a drink and congratulate yourself
Christmas is often touted as a time for the children but I’ve always felt it should be a time for adults to offer themselves a well-deserved congratulation and break from the grind too.
So go on, pour yourself a drink and toast yourself for everything you have achieved, survived or muddled through this year. And for all those young and old parents out there I also offer you one of my all-time favourite Christmas poems…
For all the nights you stayed up late
to trim the Christmas tree,
For all the costly presents
That you purchased just for me…
For all the times you tucked me in
And read me stories too,
For all the ways you cheered me up
When I was feeling blue…
For all the cookies that you baked
And stockings that you stuffed,
For all the messes you cleaned up
And pillows that you fluffed…
For all the days you loved me,
Even when I made it hard,
For all these things,
and much,much more…
Here’s a Christmas card!
... and a few Christmas crackers that always go down well in our house…
Knock! Knock!
Who’s there?
Wendy!
Wendy who?
Wendy red red robbin comes bob bob bobbin along!
Knock, Knock!
Who’s there?
Carol singers!
Carol singers! Do you know what flaming time of night it is?
No, But if you hum it we’ll sing it!
‘A woman went into a post office to buy some stamps for her Christmas cards. What denomination do you want ? asked the lady at the counter. ‘Good God!’ she replied, Has it come to this? I suppose you’d better give me twenty Catholic and twenty Presbyterian.
Doctor, Doctor I’m scared of Father Christmas
Doctor: You’re suffering from Claus-trophobia.
Why did Santa’s helper see the therapist?
Because he had a low “elf” esteem!
What happens if you eat too many Christmas decorations?
You get “Tinsel"-itis!
“Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?”
And finally, my last offering for you today is a wonderful and famous piece of writing that I’ve probably sent you before but I’m sure it will go down well again.
It is now known as ‘Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus’ and was originally printed in The New York Sun in 1897, a reply to a little girl’s letter written into the newspaper.
Dear Editor
I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
- Virginia O’Hanlon
And the reply:
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding. No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
Which leaves me only to raise my coffee cup to you and say:
Joyful wishes and a very very Merry Christmas to you all!
