Eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York's Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history's most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps.

Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus

Editorial Page, New York Sun, 1897

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

Dear Editor,

I am 8 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


Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except what 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 exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your 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 external 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 you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that 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 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, 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 lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Happy New Year!!!!

A Trip to the Dentist

This guy goes into his dentist's office, because something is wrong with his
mouth. After a brief examination, the dentist exclaims, "Holy Smoke! That plate
I installed in your mouth about six months ago has nearly completely corroded!
What on earth have you been eating?"

"Well... the only thing I can think of is this... my wife made me some asparagus
about four months ago with this stuff on it... Hollandaise sauce she called
it... and doctor, I'm talkin' DELICIOUS! I've never tasted anything like it, and
ever since then I've been putting it on everything... meat, fish, toast,
vegetables... you name it!"

"That's probabably it," replied the dentist "Hollandaise sauce is made with
lemon juice, which is acidic and highly corrosive. It seems as thought I'll have
to install a new plate, but made out of chrome this time."

"Why chrome?" the man asked.

"Well, everyone knows that there's no plate like chrome for the Hollandaise!"

Differences Between
Republicans and Democrats...

* Republicans say "Merry Christmas!" Democrats say "Happy Holidays!"

* Republicans help the poor during the holidays by sending $50 to the Salvation
Army. Democrats help the poor by giving $50, one buck at a time, to panhandlers
on the street.

* Democrats get back at the Republicans on their Christmas list by giving them
fruitcakes. Republicans re-wrap them and send them to in-laws.

* Democrats let their kids open all the gifts on Christmas Eve. Republicans
make their kids wait until Christmas morning.

* When toasting the holidays, Republicans ask for eggnog or mulled wine.
Democrats ask for a "Bud."

* When not in stores, Republicans shop from a catalog. Democrats watch for
"incredible TV offers" on late night television.

* Democrats do much of their shopping at Target and Wal-Mart. So do Republicans,
but they don't admit it.

* Republican parents have no problem buying toy guns for their kids.
Democrats refuse to do so. That is why their kids pretend to shoot each other
with dolls.

* Republicans spends hundreds of dollars and hours of work decorating the yard
with outdoor lights and Christmas displays. Democrats save their time and money,
and drive around at night to look at *other* people's lights.

* Democrats' favorite Christmas movie is "Miracle on 34th Street."
Republicans' favorite Christmas movie is "It's a Wonderful Life."
Right-Wing Republicans' favorite Christmas movie is "Die Hard."

* Republicans always take the price tag off expensive gifts before wrapping.
Democrats also remove price tags off pricey gifts ... and reposition them to
make sure they are seen.

* Republicans wear wide red ties and green sports jackets during the festive
season. Democrats do too, all year round.

* Most Republicans try, at least once, enclosing indulgent, wretchedly maudlin
form letters about their families in their Christmas cards.
Public ridicule from Democrats usually discourages them from doing it again.

* Democrats' favorite Christmas carol is "Deck the Halls." Young Democrats'
favorite Christmas carol is "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer." Republicans'
favorite Christmas carol is "White Christmas."
Young Republicans' favorite Christmas carol is "White Christmas."

* Cheapskate Republicans buy an artificial Christmas tree. Tight-fisted
Democrats buy a real tree, but they wait until the week before Christmas when
the lots lower their prices.

* Democrat men like to watch football while the women fix holiday meals.
On this, Republicans are in full agreement.

* Republicans see nothing wrong with letting their children play "Cowboys and
Indians." Democrats don't either, as long as the Indians win.

* Republicans first began thinking like Republicans when they stopped believing
in Santa Claus. Democrats became Democrats because they never stopped believing
in Santa Claus.

Is Santa A Woman?

I think Santa Claus is a woman....

I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he's a she. Think about
it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I
have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!

For starters, the vast majority of men don't even think about selecting gifts
until Christmas Eve. It's as if they are all frozen in some kind of Ebenezerian
Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they - with amazing calm - call other
errant men and plan for a last-minute shopping spree.

Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket
wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. (You might think this would
send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but my husband tells me it's an
enormous relief because it lessens the 11th hour decision-making burden.)

On this count alone, I'm convinced Santa is a woman. Surely, if he were a man,
everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating
musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.

Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would
be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted and
strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh amid wide-eyed, desperate claims
that buck season had been extended. Blitzen's rack would already be on the way
to the taxidermist.

Even if the male Santa DID have reindeer, he'd still have transportation
problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and clouds
and then refuse to stop and ask for directions. Add to this the fact that there
would be unavoidable delays in the chimney, where
the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and repoint bricks in the flue. He
would also need to check or carbon monoxide fumes in every
gas fireplace, and get under every Christmas tree that is crooked to straighten
it to a perfectly upright 90-degree angle.

Other reasons why Santa can't possibly be a man:
- Men can't pack a bag.
- Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.
- Men would feel their masculinity is threatened...having to be seen with all
those elves.
- Men don't answer their mail.
- Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described even in jest as
anything remotely resembling a "bowlful of jelly."
- Men aren't interested in stockings unless somebody's wearing them.
- Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.

I can buy the fact that other mythical holiday characters are men.........
Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking
ominous. Definite guy. Cupid flies around carrying weapons. Uncle Sam is a
politician who likes to point fingers. Any one of these
individuals could pass the testosterone screening test. But not St. Nick. Not a
chance.

As long as we have each other, good will, peace on earth, faith and Nat King
Cole's version of "The Christmas Song," it probably makes
little difference what gender Santa is. I just wish she'd quit dressing like a
guy!!!

Santa's Replacement: Bubba Claus

----- MEMO -----

To: Southern USA Residents
From: Santa
RE: Replacement Santa


I regret to inform you that effective immediately, I will no longer be able
to serve the Southern United States on Christmas Eve. Due to overwhelming
current population of the earth, my contract was renegotiated by North
American Fairies and Elves Local 209. I now serve only certain areas of
Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin and Michigan. As part of the new and
better contract I also get longer breaks for milk and cookies so keep that
in mind. However, I'm certain that your children will be in good hands with
your local replacement who happens to be my third cousin, Bubba Claus. His
side of the family in from the South pole. He shares my goal of delivering
toys to all the good boys and girls; however, there are a few differences
between us. Differences such as:
1. There is no danger of a Grinch stealing your presents from Bubba Claus.
He has a gun rack on his sleigh and a bumper sticker that reads: "These toys
insured by Smith & Wesson."

2. Instead of milk and cookies, Bubba Claus prefers that children leave a RC
Cola and pork rinds (or a moon pie) on the fireplace. And Bubba doesn't
smoke a pipe. He dips a little snuff though, so please have an empty spit
can handy.

3. Bubba Claus' sleigh is pulled by floppy-eared, flyin' coon dogs instead
of reindeer. I made the mistake of loaning him a couple of my reindeer one
time, and Blitzen's head now overlooks Bubba's fireplace.

4. You won't hear "On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen..." when Bubba
Claus arrives. Instead you'll hear, "On Earnhardt, on Wallace, on Martin and
LaBonte. On Rudd, on Jarrett, on Elliot and Petty."

5. "Ho, ho, ho!" has been replaced by "Yee Haw!" And you also are likely to
hear Bubba's elves reply, "I her'd dat!"

6. As required by Southern highway laws, Bubba Claus' sleigh does have a
Yosemite Sam safety triangle on the back with the words, "Back Off!" The
last I heard it also had other decorations on the sleigh back as well. One
is Ford or Chevy logo with lights that race through the letters and the
other is a caricature of me (Santa Claus) peeing on the Tooth Fairy.

7. The usual Christmas movie classics such as "Miracle on 34th Street" and
"It's a Wonderful Life" will not be shown in your negotiated viewing area.
Instead, you will see "Boss Hogg Saves Christmas" and "Smokey and the Bandit
IV" featuring Burt Reynolds as Bubba Claus and dozens of State Patrol cars
crashing into each other.

8. Bubba Claus doesn't wear a belt. If I were you, I'd make sure you, the
wife, and the kids turn the other way when he bends over to put presents
under the tree.

9. And finally, lovely Christmas songs have been sung about me like "Rudolph
the Red-nosed Reindeer" and Bing Crosby's "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town".
This year, songs about Bubba Claus will be played on all the AM radio
stations in the South. These song titles will be Mark Chesnutt's "Bubba
Claus shot the jukebox"; Cledus T. Judd's, "All I want for Christmas is my
Woman and a Six-opack", and Hank Williams Jr's "If You Don't Like Bubba
Claus, You Shove It."

Sincerely Yours,
Santa Claus(Member of North American Fairies and Elves Local 209)

Southern Wise Men

In a small southern town there was a "Nativity Scene" that showed great skill
and talent had gone into creating it. One small feature bothered me. The three
wise men were wearing firemen's helmets.

Totally unable to come up with a reason or explanation, I left. At a "Quik
Stop" on the edge of town, I asked the lady behind the counter about the
helmets.

She exploded into a rage, yelling at me, "You darn Yankees never do read the
Bible!"

I assured her that I did, but simply couldn't recall anything about firemen in
the Bible.

She jerked her Bible from behind the counter and ruffled thru some pages, and
finally jabbed her finger at a passage. Sticking it in my face she said, "See, it
says right here, 'The three wise man came from afar.'"

No Santa Claus? Ridiculous!

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid.
I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister
dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day
because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told
the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when
swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were
world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything.
She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it.
That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!!
Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous
cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town
that had a little bit of just about everything.

As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle
in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs
it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had
I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people
scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.

For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill,
wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody
I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who
went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby
Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me
in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.

Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess
during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he
had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't
have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy
Bobby Decker a coat!

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and
he would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly,
as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."
The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good
winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again
and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat,
and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote,
"To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.

Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to
Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially,
one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly
and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right,
Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step,
pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally
it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside
my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful
rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous.
Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...

And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!



Notes: My Aunt Georgia believed in Santa until she married at 21
and had children of her own. My Mother's first name was Virginia and
taught her children to be happy with a roof over our head, clothes on
our backs and her home cooking. One Christmas, our cousins, Rosemary
Lindberg and her children had barely enough to eat. Their Father had
died a few years earlier and Rosemary was almost blind and had no money.

My Mother asked us if it was alright for us to give our presents to our
cousins. Of course, we said yes and delivered them Christmas eve.
We had each other on Christmas day and Mother's home cooking. It was
one of the few times I saw my Father cry over how happy he was with
all of us. I knew that my Mother had done so many good deeds that
she should have gone straight to heaven when she died.

Because of our parents, I have always believed that there is a little bit of God
in everyone of us. Of course, by the same concept there has to be a little bit
of Santa Claus too. God Bless Us, Everyone.