DO YOU BELIEVE

DO YOU BELIEVE?


I don’t believe in Santa Claus, is what the young boy said.
He doesn’t really come, when I’m tucked away in bed.
I believe in Santa, his little sister answered back.
Last year he brought you that train, with all the crossings,
on the track.
Remember, I got my favorite doll, the one that really talks
and when her arm is raised, across the room she walks.

The boy looked at his father and put this question straight to him.
Why don’t you tell her, its you and mom who put the presents
under the Christmas tree, you trim?

The father paused for a moment, before he answered
with a smile.
I know there is a Santa Claus, I saw him when I was little
and that’s been quite a while.
On that Christmas Eve, the moon was shining bright,
I can remember like it was yesterday, when dressed in red,
he came in sight.

The son asked of his dad, also with a smile upon his face,
if there really is a Santa, where is he now?
He must live some place.
His dad didn’t hesitate, said come and we will take a ride.
Out to the drive they went, got in the car and headed for the
countryside.

The boy had it all figured out, his dad would take him to the Shopping Mall,
where he already knew, the Santa there was not real at all
but they didn’t turn toward the city and soon the boy saw a falling star.
It was getting dark by then and the light filled the sky and car.
When it had been so bright, he wondered at what he’d seen,
surely it was a house of white, with trim of red and green.

Now his dad had stopped, said they would walk to a place behind the house,
where the moonlight showed a path to a little wooden shed.
Inside a jolly fellow worked, busily making lots of toys. He had a white beard,
a big smile was on his face and the clothes he wore were red.

© 12/17/2002

Monty