The Greatest Love

How long has it been since you've read this one? Isn't it about time to read it again and remind ourselves of the love and joy that this season is truly about?


"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.
"115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] 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 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 eternal light 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 they 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 man that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, 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 he lives forever. A thousand years from now, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

867-5309

It started 3 or 4 years ago. Whenever it was that I finally broke down and got my first cell phone. The daughter and I were off the island for the day and I just decided enough was enough, I was moving up to this century. I stopped in Radio Shack and got a Verizon cell phone with a two year plan. Less than a half an hour later, as we were on our way to a tour of The Breakers, the phone rang. Curiosity piqued, I answered only to be asked if Henry Rodriguez were available. Um, sorry folks, this is not Henry Rodriguez. It lasted for over a year. At first I tried to be understanding, even though I wasn't. Obviously Henry Rodriguez used to have the number, stopped paying all his bills and now everybody was calling me. Sometimes even at 2 in the morning. I would patiently explain to these people that this was my new cell phone and I had no knowledge of Henry and please stop calling. I even went so far as to return an attorney's message left on my phone to let them know that this no longer was Mr. Rodriguez's number and they needed to stop leaving messages on my phone! Obviously, dealing with the multitudes of the milk of human kindness as they did, they believed me instantly and were most gracious in thanking me for my honesty and assistance. About the time I decided to dump the Verizon phone, the creditors for Henry Rodriguez stopped calling. In Maine, I started with a pay as you go phone. As I was driving in the car just a few days after purchase, I had the opportunity to chat with a local sheriff looking for somebody who had given the number as his. He was a little miffed at the situation, but at least he was polite to deal with. Then when I switched to my next phone...well, actually nothing happened with T Mobile. But there was all the phone calls in Maine for the former owners of the house when we were supposed to have been given a new number, not the same number that the previous owners had used for nine years! And once I moved here to Minnesota, it didn't even take a full week before I started receiving the creditor's calls for Israel Mendez, and now for Stephen Culls.

It had been my intention to keep these numbers forever and ever and ever since I'm putting so much time into "cleaning" them - if you will. But it seems that my T Mobile won't change area codes with me. I can't wait to find out what non-bill paying idiot my next number used to (maybe) belong to.

Perhaps I'm just not meant to be this century.