Time Traveler: Lose the sour face; it's Christmas time

Maybe it's just me, but it seems over the last couple of decades there are increasing numbers of our population who seem to be dedicated to being perpetually angry, annoyed and indignant about something. They seem to wander around with a look on their face like they have just swallowed a teaspoon of sour owl doo-doo, actively looking for something to be annoyed by. Well, that's OK by me if they want to live that way, but unfortunately, they don't want to live in their joyless world alone. They seem to want to inflict their apparent unhappiness on everyone around them. During my grade-school years, we always had our school plays and practiced our Christmas songs. It was a magical time for us kids. Then up popped the plunderers of joy, screaming separation of church and state. Horse pucky! There is no mention of church and state in the Constitution. It simply states Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. These harpies couldn't care less about the Constitution. Their intent is to stifle JOY. They are now attacking Halloween and even poor old Santa Claus. Well, no matter. If these people find joy in being joyless, who am I to deprive them? I'm leaving now to fly to Wyoming to visit family, so the last half of this column is a reprint from eight or nine years ago. I chose this one because I like it and it fits the season. Merry Christmas. See you next year. Time Traveler: We are living in an age when it seems everything must be proven or disproven scientifically. We test, probe and investigate the world around us to replace the mysterious unknown with undeniable cold hard facts. The moon lost some of its mystique when we landed. The brontosaurus many of us learned about in school never existed because the paleontologists of the day assembled two different dinosaurs. How disappointing. Science is well and good, but it has no tolerance for wonderment and mystery. How sad that with all the knowledge we have acquired, some of it empirical at best, we cannot leave a little room for magic. In 1897, Francis Pharcellus Church, an editorial writer for the New York Sun, wrote an iconic response to a letter an 8-year-old girl wrote saying her little friends expressed some doubts about the existence of Santa Claus. She thought he would know. He did. His answer is an American classic, but as Mark Twain once said, "Everyone talks about the classics, but no one reads them." Read Mr. Church's reply and take time to savor the words: 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 Dear Virginia, Your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except 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 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 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 10 times 10 thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood. You can hear my latest podcast on YouTube at TimeTraveler1860. Don't forget to hit the subscribe button. To comment on this column, call 530-320-6441.