I needed to include that line as my title. It's from a poem I wrote freshman year with my friends. The assignment was to use alliteration. I think we did great. Maybe some day I'll post the whole poem.
So, I suppose I should give a spoiler warning. This post contains information which may scar you for life, if you don't believe in Santa. (But I suppose I might have scarred you already by calling him Satan).
Anyway, today I was thinking about Santa Claus. My parents never even hinted that he was real or gave gifts to us in his name or anything like that. I was the cruel kid who tels other kids that Santa isn't real with such conviction that they probably went home crying to their parents. but that's another story.
All I was really thinking about was how in the end, parents end up giving Santa all of the credit for their hard work. They were the ones who stood in the cold lines on black Friday waiting to get their Tickle-me-drive-your-car-superstar-creep-me-out Elmo toy, and they were the ones who had to find super hiding spots, and they're even the ones who wrap it up and write "from Santa". Then, they go to all the trouble of making cookies with their kids to keep up the santa facade, and they have to get up at unseen hours to put the presents under the tree, quietly enough that their children don't notice and wake up and have Christmas ruined for the rest of their lives.
It's a lot of work. And Santa shouldn't get the credit for it, since there is no Santa.
Then I wondered what would happen if we so easily gave God the credit for our work and treasures and talents like some people give to Santa. Just thinking.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment