I heard the siren this evening as I talked to my daughter and yelled, “It’s Santa!!!”
I tripped over the dog and fell into the window by the front door, waving maniacally at the red fire truck with the bright lights. I’m sure Santa saw this 61 year-old woman, red-faced and fresh off her Peloton bike, as something a little alarming. But, for me, it’s a moment I can’t resist. Every year since moving to this area, Santa has come by our house. And, every time, even if it’s just me, I wave at him.
There is something about Santa that feels true to me. There is something in my soul that recognizes what he represents, that makes him feel like home. I’ve always told my kids that I believe in the spirit of Santa. I know that someone, every year, shares something with an individual that makes them feel seen. That’s the spirit of Santa. At some point, a teacher tells a student that they will make a difference in the world and makes them feel hope. That is the spirit of Santa. Somewhere, a dog is being given another chance despite its age and looks and makes the new owner feel significant. That is the spirit of Santa.
So, this year, I give you my:
Ode to Santa
Sleighs and bells and reindeer
Are magic on their own,
But add in laughter, gifts and flight
And a Santa Claus is grown.
It’s not the twinkle in his eye
Nor the bright red clothes,
It’s the story that precedes his flight
And the joy that it bestows.
To sit as parents tell the tale
Of a man who gives to all,
A gift wrapped up in ho ho ho’s,
That from the chimney fall.
And Rudolph with his nose so red
And other flying deer,
Let us know a sleigh of love
Is coming very near.
For that’s what grows a Santa Claus
The elves that fill his bag,
And build a gift that’s just for you
Your name upon the tag.
He knows if you’ve been naughty
Because he watches from afar,
Your name appears upon his list
He loves you as you are.
That’s what grows a Santa Claus
It’s not the gifts or clothes,
It’s love that reaches each of us
That’s how a Santa grows.