Holidays Are About Forgiveness

I've actually had a few first-graders, and even some second-graders, ask me to weigh in on the virtues of Santa Claus. Some believe. Some don't.  Some seem to look at me as an easy target and just ask me.

"I believe in Santa," is my usual response. This is immediately followed with "I don't believe Santa's going to help you with that worksheet/math/writing (or whatever the students are working on) right now. Now get busy." Then I 'get them busy' with what they're supposed to be doing.

Once upon a time, Santa Claus was a sore subject with me. I actually held a grudge against the jolly old elf for a few years.

You see, my early aspirations in life could be considered by some to be unsavory. Little me was certain that when I grew up I would be a thief, an arsonist, a con, a pirate or some type of criminal, albeit an extremely successful and rich one.

The way I saw it, I needed to cover my bases and try out several career paths before determining which would be most successful for me. My sisters encouraged me to move on when they found I'd discovered the hiding spots they created for their allowances. Again.

So the next logical place to go from petty thievery was piracy. And seeing how close it was to Christmas, I thought it would be easier just to go to St. Nick than my parents for the tools of my new trade. I wrote Santa a fairly detailed letter that year. I used my considerable writing skills so as not to alarm Santa to my actual plans.

...a Frisbee, black powder, a Slinky, a deck mounting cannon, a basketball, 5 pound lead cannon balls, a disc sled, a boarding axe...

I was really looking forward to getting that cannon. I had planned to test it prior to mounting it on my father's 14-foot, fiberglass sailboat. The kaboom would be so cool.

Needless to say, there was no kaboom. The cannon never came. Santa did NOT come through for me! I harbored a grudge against him, as I said, for several years.

Somewhere along the way, I changed paths completely and dedicated myself to good. Had I received a cannon at such a young age, there would have been a high probability of me blowing myself up.

So I've written Santa, yet again, to set things right. Old grudges have been forgiven and he needn't have any fear of coming to my house. Of course, I'm sure he's forgiven me for trying to stay up Christmas Eve with my air pellet rifle trained on the fireplace...