Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The Day Santa Clause Died

At 16 years of age I found myself believing in Santa Clause again, but more so understanding that Santa is real. No, I didn't suffer an injury that regressed me back to being 6 years old, but I did suffer. I parent through a combination of influences of my own childhood, some good and some bad. For the bad parts of my own childhood I find myself parenting my own children by doing the opposite of what I had encountered. One of my parenting role models was Santa Clause and he left this world this past Sunday. Very few know of my story with Santa Clause and my feable words on this blog will not be able to do justice for the love I have for him.

Charles Beall (a.k.a. Santa Clause) took me into his home along with his beautiful and wonderful family. It was the last month of my Sophomore year of High School and after my stubbornness and anger led me to lash out at my father by electing to go live with my mother in Houston. I needed, really wanted, another home to go live in for this last month until I made the journey to Houston while I finished the school year. Now as much as I regret the decision to leave my fathers on more levels than I can count. I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason and the reason came a bit more clearer almost 20 years later. I found a home with Santa that was filled with unconditional love, hope, and belief in the betterment of those around them. I was starving for these things and I simply could not get enough and at the time I had no idea as to the blessing and gift I had been given by living with Santa and his family. I slept more soundly than I had in years and I often woke up to a strange expression on my face, more commonly known as a smile.

Don't misunderstand that my family and especially my father is a great man. I was even more angry with him at the time for letting me go to live with someone else, but years later I understood more. My father loved me enough to back my decisions with a philosophy that if you love someone let them go and I believe you all know the rest.

I knew Charles was not the real Santa, but at the time I didn't understand how real Santa Clause is until I met him. Santa is real and alive in each of us and this is a cross that each of us must bear and we should protect it at all costs. For is their a greater gift to give another than to bring a smile to a child? I found my anger met by love, my stubbornness met by a hug, my hopelessness met by togetherness. To this date I don't know if I have met a family more wealthy than that of Santa, but most of us wouldn't recognize the real wealth that exists in Santa's home. The kind of wealth that pays for a stubborn, angry and defiant 16 year old to believe in Santa Clause to this very day.

Good bye Santa Clause, I will miss you Charles.

You can meet him here: http://www.avisitfromsantaclaus.com/


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