So to double my sentimentality as I was reading Charmed Thirds (which is semi-impressive in itself because I feel like the only thing I've read this semester is forced eh-hem-BRIT LIT) I came across another all-too-accurate Christmas reference. Jessica Darling goes off on this rant and says:
Think about the very concept of Santa for a second: A fat senior citizen in a
tacky red suit flies around in a sleigh pulled by magic reindeer, delivering
gifts for all the good little boys and girls in the world in just one night.
It's absurd. Yet kids totally buy it. Totally. And in small children that pure,
untainted faith is a beautiful thing.
Well, I completely agree. I think we try to live our lives as though we have this ultimate faith. We, unlike the little children who actually believe in Santa, have to convince ourselves that anything is possible. I mean my own motto in life is: I'm not afraid to fall. It's from wayyy back in middle school when I was a hurdler and felt the pain of Muhlenberg's finest cinder track in my knee after an awful spill as my mom tried to clean it out with peroxide and a toothbrush. Ouch. Of course it also applied to when I tore my ACL, and went back to playing. The list goes on, but the point being, of course I was afraid to fall. I just did a darn good job of convincing myself I wasn't.
That also may be why Dispatch's "The General" is my all-time favorite song. To me, to go into something when you already know you are defeated is extremely admirable.
So where does this apply now? I honestly have no clue. Maybe I'm just trying to comment on the fact that after we realize our "Santa Claus" doesn't really exist a lot of other things come crashing down as well. Or, we take the other route and we still wake up early on Christmas morning with the excitement of seeing if he has eaten all the cookies (and of course what presents we've received). Hmm..
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