Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus

And he'll still be around ten times ten thousand years from now.

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At some point in the hypothetical future, I have become morbidly convinced, I will have a conversation that starts with a (at this point) very hypothetical grandchild asking me what a newspaper is. Then s/he’ll say: Let me get this straight. You used to print out the news on pieces of very thin paper which were then bundled together and delivered around the city either to peoples’ homes or lots of places where these bundles could be purchased? And this was done every day of the year?

But well after the newspaper has gone the way of the telegraph its most iconic contributions will live on. And there are few more iconic than the famous exchange printed in the New York Sun in September, 1897. According to the Newseum it is history’s most reprinted newspaper editorial. A young woman named Virginia O’Hanlon sent the following letter to 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?



And the unsigned reply, written by veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church:

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 eternal 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 they 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 may 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, fancy, 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 he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

It’s worth reading and re-reading, year in and year out, ten times then thousand years indeed.

In the mean time, as the jolly old fellow is said to have exclaimed:

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.