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SANTA'S SECRET
On Christmas Eve, a young boy with light in his eyes looked deep into Santa's, to Santa's surprise, And said as he nestled on Santa's broad knee, "I want your secret. Tell it to me." He leaned up and whispered in Santa's good ear,
"How do you do it, year after year?
"I want to know how, as you travel about, giving gifts here and there, you never run out. How is it, dear Santa, that in your pack of toys you have plenty for all of the world's boys and girls? Stays so full, never empties, as you make your way from rooftop, to homes large and small, from nation to nation, reaching them all?"
And Santa smiled kindly and said to the boy, "Don't ask me hard questions. Don't you want a toy?" But the child shook his head and Santa could see that he needed to answer. "Now listen to me", he told the small boy with the light in his eyes, "My secret will make you sadder, and wise.
"The truth is that my sack is magic. Inside it holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride. But although I do visit each girl and each boy I don't always leave them a gaily wrapped toy. Some homes are hungry, some home are sad. Some homes are desperate, some homes are bad. Some home are broken, and children there grieve. Those homes I visit, but what should I leave?"
"My sleigh is filled with the happiest stuff, but for homes where despair lives, toys aren't enough." So I tiptoe in, kiss each girl and boy, and pray with them that they'll be given the joy of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives in the heart of the dear child who gets not, but gives.
"If only God hears me and answers my prayer, when I visit next year, what I will find there are homes filled with peace, and with giving, and love and boys and girls gifted with light from above. It's a very hard task, my smart little brother, to give toys to some, and to give prayers to others. But the
prayers are the best gifts, the best gifts indeed. For God has a way of meeting each need.
"That's part of the answer. The rest, my dear youth is that my sack is magic. And that is the truth. In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve day more love than a Santa could e'er give away. The sack never empties of love, or of joys 'cause inside it are prayers, and hopes. Not just toys. The more that I give, the fuller it seems. Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams.
"And do you know something? You've got a sack, too. It's as magic as mine, and it's inside of you. It never gets empty. It's full from the start. It's the center of light, and of love. It's your heart. And if on this Christmas you want to help me, Don't be so concerned with the gifts beneath your tree. Open that sack called your heart, and share your joy, your friendship, your wealth, your care."
The light in the small boy's eyes was glowing. "Thanks for the secret. I've got to be going." "Wait, little boy," said Santa, "don't go. Will you share? Will you help? Will you use what you know?" And just for a moment the small boy stood still, touched his heart with the small hand and whispered, "I will".
Author Unknown
Don't expect too much of Christmas Day. You can't crowd into it any arrears of unselfishness and kindliness that may have accrued during the past twelve months.
--Oren Arnold
The Celts used to bring a large log indoors as a tribute to the sun god. In Cornwall, revellers would chalk a symbol of a man on the log in a cheery reference to the human sacrifices who used to be thrown on the bonfire.
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