We take pleasure in
answering at once and thus prominently the communication below, expressing at I
the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered
among the friends of The Sun:
Dear Editor,-I am eight years old. Some of my little friends say
there is no Santa Claus. Papa says "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Please tell me the truth; is
there a Santa Claus?
VIRGINIA
O'HANLON. 115 West Ninety-fifth St.
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have
been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except
they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their
little minds.
All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's,
are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his
intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the
intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exist~ as
certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound
and give to our life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the
world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no
Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance, to
make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and
sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You
might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to
watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if
they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees
Santa Claus, but that is no sign there is no Santa Claus.
The most real things in the world are those that neither
children nor men can see. Did you ever
see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but
that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the
wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what
makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not
the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that
ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can
push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory
beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else
real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! He
lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten
times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of
childhood.
Casual Essays of the Sun. By permission.
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