I believe in Santa Claus. He stands before me as a Spartan, his crimson robes flowing behind him, battling a foe whose victory is inevitable. Just as the Thousand Nations of the Persian Empire crashed against the Three Hundred at Thermopylae, so to does the march of adulthood advance upon my final bastion of childhood. He sees the corpses of the Easter Bunny and the tooth Fairy strewn upon the battlefield, he knows what fate awaits him, yet he holds his ground.
For this I must thank Ol’ Saint Nick, and pay him homage. And thus I strive to maintain my childhood as long as I can. To this day I rank astronaut-firefighter in my top three career choices, only behind pilot of the Goodyear Blimp and a sports-arena announcer. I endeavor to never give up on my dreams, and I try to believe, with all my heart, that if I try my best, I can accomplish anything. I’ll gladly watch Babar, the King of the Elephants, whose TV show and books shaped my character. I consider the work of Dr. Seuss among the greatest literary pieces of all time. I hold onto these trappings of childhood that made it such a magical time.
Yet I know it cannot last. I feel the tide of time pulling me from the shore of the early days of my upbringing. I’ll be getting a driver’s license soon, and college will be here before I know it. And each step toward cars and dorms is a step away from my trucks and blocks. So I’ll cling to Santa Claus, my refuge, as long as I can, until even he cannot protect me any longer. But I will always remember what he has done for me, and I shall pass him on to my children, so that they may be enthralled with his magic and wonder, if only for a short time.
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