When I was a teacher, I gave my high school students an in-class assignment this time of the year. I read the letter written in 1897 by 8-year-old Virginia O’Halloran asking an editor from the New York Sun if there really is a Santa Claus. I told my students that they had to play the part of the editor and write a reply to Virginia and there was only one condition. You must not make her cry.

I played the part of Virginia as I read their letters out loud. Most students wrote that it’s OK to believe in Santa, but it’s really your parents who brought you your presents. That made Virginia cry. Some said believing in a fat man who flies through the air on a sled and slides down your chimney to bring you gifts is a figment of your imagination and that’s OK. She cried again. In fact, she sobbed after I had read every single letter.

Then I read the editor’s letter to Virginia to my class and I cited a significant analogy he made to the existence of Santa Claus. He wrote, “Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof they are not there.” I then told my class that if I can think fairies are dancing on my lawn from my imagination that is undeniably real, then the fairies must really be there.

If we shouldn’t believe in Santa Claus, then why are we all born given the capability to think that anything can exist beyond our physical experiences? Why do I believe in a god I can’t see? Why have I been taught by three different religious institutions that the Son of God rose from the dead, but I’m told that a man with a white beard delivering presents to every boy and girl on Christmas Eve is an impossibility.

If imagined, ghosts are real as are aliens from outer space. Three headed dragons are possible, too and if you tell me they’re not, then prove to me that just because you can’t see them, touch them, hear them, or feel them, then they don’t exist.

When my children were younger and bounded down the stairs on Christmas morning, they had an uncompromisable belief that Santa Claus had brought them their presents. I recall that awful day when I was a young child and an older kid said to me that Santa was fake and he was just a make-believe character from a story. That shocked me out of my childhood and all but forced me into becoming a cynical grown up when I was not yet of an adolescent age.

If you told me today that there can’t be fairies dancing on my lawn, but that an all-powerful entity lives far above the sky and he created the entire universe with one sweep of his hand, I’d have to question why one is true but not the other.

If what I imagine is not real then I have to wonder if I am real. French philosopher, Renee Descarte wrote, “I think; therefore I am.” He said he existed because he was capable of forming thought. Therefore, if I can form a thought that Santa Claus is real, then he must be real. Furthermore, how limited our lives would be if the only reality we have is what we can see, hear, taste, smell and touch. Our five senses cannot prove the existence of God, but I have personal proof that he exists. He has worked his miracles into my life, that are by definition, events that cannot be explained by natural or scientific laws. God gave me two children after a doctor of medical science had told me that I could never physically father any. God is real to me every minute I spend with my son and daughter.

If we put our imagination to work, we can see the unsee-able. We can hear something that makes no sound, taste food we’ve never eaten. We can smell anything that has no scent and we can reach up and touch the stars. Our imagination gives us the extraordinary power to believe in everything that’s supernatural.

To paraphrase Descarte’s words, “If I can think something exists, then it does exist.” If I believe in love, then it is true. If I believe I had a past life as a Civil War soldier, then I did. If I can dream of becoming a rock star, then it can happen. If I believe Santa is real, then he is real.

The origin of Santa Claus is derived from the third century when St. Nicholas became the patron saint for children. In addition, he gave away all his inherited wealth to help the poor and sick. American cartoonist Thomas Nast and Episcopalian minister Clement Clarke Moore introduced the idea of Santa as Saint Nick with Moore writing the famous poem, “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” What provoked Nast and Clarke to give Santa Claus to the world? They imagined his existence and then they gave him to us in hope that we might imagine him to have existence, too.

During my last week of teaching before I retired, some of my students wrote tributes to me in my yearbook. One wrote, “Mr. Strack - Thank you for helping me believe in myself and to believe that anything I can imagine can be real. And I too have fairies dancing on my lawn!”

So, turn off the lights when you go to bed tonight and remember how you believed in the unbelievable when you were just a child. In the words of the editor of the New York Sun in his reply to Virginia, “No Santa Claus! Thank God he lives, and he lives forever.”

Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone!

Rich Strack can be reached at richiesadie11@gmail.com