One night in December, my child came to me
“My friends say there’s no Santa, dad. How can it be?
Please tell me the truth, so I may understand.”
He sat in my lap, held tight to my hand.
I looked in his eyes, and thought for a while,
Then told him these words, with a difficult smile,
“A long time ago, a man walked this earth.
They say he was special, from the day of his birth.
Born in a manger, for you and for me,
One day he would die, to set the world free.
His name was Jesus, the Son of God
Well you know the story?” He smiled with a nod.
“Well many years later, another man came,
He, too, kind and caring, Saint Nickolas was his name.
He was born into fortune, and his money he spent
To give to the needy, wherever he went.
He loved this man Jesus, and so he tried
To be a good Christian ’till the day that he died.”
My child seemed confused, so I skipped all the history
And tried to get right to the point of this mystery.
“Each Christmas we celebrate Jesus’ birthday,
And giving a gift is just one special way
To remember the gift that was born on that night
Midst angels and shepherds and bright starlight.
We also remember Saint Nickolas once more,
Because of the way he gave help to the poor.
So Jesus and Saint Nickolas still live in our heart,
And the world only knows them if we do our part.
We all can be Santa, wherever we go,
And we all can share Jesus, with all that we know.”
He gave me a hug, and ran off to play
And I knew that more questions would be coming some day.
But for now I could rest, enjoying the season,
Content my child knew that Jesus is the reason.