Merry Christmas from Andy & Christy, Ray & Marcia!
In 1897, Francis P. Church, an editorial writer at the now defunct New York newspaper The Sun, received a letter from a girl called Virginia, questioning the existence of Father Christmas. Here is her letter and his famous reply:
Dear Editor,
I am eight 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
Dear 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 eternal 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 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 may 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, fancy, poetry, love, romance can push aside the curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all the world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God he lives and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, 10 times 10 thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
On a lighter note, here are some Aussie-style lyrics to the classic Jingle Bells:
Dashing through the bush
in a rusty Holden ute
kicking up the dust
esky in the boot
Kelpie by my side
singing Christmas songs
It's summer-time and I am in
my singlet, shorts & thongs
Oh, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells
Jingle all the way
Christmas in Australia
on a scorching summer's day.
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells
Christmas-time is beaut
Oh, what fun it is to ride
in a rusty Holden ute
Engine's getting hot
dodge the kangaroos
swaggy climbs aboard
he is welcome too.
All the family is there
sitting by the pool
Christmas Day, the Aussie Way
By the barbecue!
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Love, Christy & Andy
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