About the three stages of belief

I have no memory of believing in Santa Claus.

I don't mean I never believed--I may have. I just don't remember the belief. My first memories of Christmas Eve involved listening to my parents wrapping gifts and putting stuff together.

Plus, I don't think either of my parents were big on the myth. My mom, especially--she liked taking credit for the pile of presents under the tree. A child of the Great Depression, she loved that she was able to provide her four kids with the toys she never had. She loved being Santa.

I do have a hazy memory of being taken to talk to Santa, who was holding court while stuffed into a cold, little hut in uptown New London, in front of the Ben Franklin store. I didn't have much faith in the conversation, but I was okay with sitting on the jolly old elf's lap for a second with my brother and sisters. Might was well cover all the bases.

Last night, we attended the Christmas concert of the community band Angela plays in. Santa always makes an appearance during the intermission, talking to the kids and handing out candy canes.

So it was interesting to observe the reactions of the three kids we were with.

Julian, at 11, is well into the age of reason, and fully cognizant of where the presents come from. However, while he had no desire to talk to Santa, he did come down to the aisle to sneak a peek at Big Red Guy, and pick up a candy cane.

Caroline, who at a very pragmatic 5 you'd think would be in prime Santa territory, surprised us all by refusing to have anything to do with the process. She's not usually scared of anything, but she's developed an aversion to guys in red suits and stayed put in her seat.

It was Taylor, so intense and sensitive, who was more than ready to queue up with the other kids, sit on Santa's lap, tell him her request (a Dora vanity, I think), and gratefully accept the candy cane offered her. She even posed for pictures with Mr. Claus.

Julian has faith that his parents will fill his stocking on Christmas--he thinks he no longer needs Santa. Caroline must sense that Santa is not entirely who he says he is--she needs to hold back and assess the situation, but she knows that somehow there will be a package under the tree for her. Taylor is buying the whole deal--at three, she truly believes; her face as she talked to Santa was innocent and trusting.

Watching them, I realized I could connect with how each of them reacted to Santa--Julian's practicality; Caroline's reticence; Taylor's exuberance. It's representative of how individuals react to Christmas, isn't it? For some, it's a long to-do list; for others, it's something to avoid; for a few, it's a time to accept and rejoice.

As the band played the Hallelujah Chorus, and we rose to our feet, I could only hope that we could all be a little more Age Three at Christmas--accepting and rejoicing, exuberant and even innocent:

|: Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! :|

|: For the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! :|

For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.
|: Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! :|

The kingdom of this world
Is become the kingdom of our Lord,
And of His Christ, and of His Christ;
And He shall reign for ever and ever,
For ever and ever, forever and ever,

King of kings, and Lord of lords,
|: King of kings, and Lord of lords, :|
And Lord of lords,
And He shall reign,
And He shall reign forever and ever,
King of kings, forever and ever,
And Lord of lords,
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

And He shall reign forever and ever,
|: King of kings! and Lord of lords! :|
And He shall reign forever and ever,
King of kings! and Lord of lords!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

--by Georg Friedrich Handel