It’s almost Christmas, friends, and so let’s talk a bit about Ol’ St. Nick, shall we? I’m reading a book by William Bennett called “The True Saint Nicholas” and it’s filled with so many interesting things that have my wheels turning … especially about my daughter, Jordan.
We told her all about Santa.
We told her that Santa is real.
We do ALL the Santa things in our house.
AND.
One day some kid will tell her that “there is no Santa” and she’ll come home heartbroken and … over the next few days I’ll reflect on Bennett’s book and some of the things I’m learning about St. Nick and toss out some thoughts about what we’ll likely tell Jordan.
Much love and Merry Christmas,
Glenn || PATREON / BUY ME A COFFEE
I love Santa Claus - the folklore, the legends, the stories, the mystery, the magic. I love it all. Of course I know that "Santa Claus" isn't "real" ... but I also believe that his spirit is very much alive in our hearts, especially during the Christmas Season.
Santa is named after Saint Nicholas and since I recently picked up a book about the actual St. Nick (*link below) and all the stories and legends about him and his life.
AND.
Since I am a literal Christmas Elf.
Well.
You better believe that I've been pondering a bunch of stuff that will make for some good #CoffeeThoughts material over the next few days.
First, though - some background.
Nicholas was born in modern day Turkey to his mom, Nonna, and his father, Theophanes. History says that they were a "well off" family due to their lineage and perhaps an inheritance that they received and yet they were hard workers who may have run some sort of trade in cloth or grains.
Nonna and Theophanes had everything, so it seemed ... everything except a child.
They wanted one.
They desired for one.
They asked God for one.
They had prayed and longed for a child for many years and finally their dreams became a reality around 280CE when Nicholas was born and celebration ensued.
Smiles.
Joy.
Excitement.
Gratefulness.
... All the things.
From what we know, he lived a relatively normal life for a kid in that day and then at the age of 7 he was placed under the care of a trusted "slave" who was responsible to help with schooling and teaching him how to grow into a healthy, functioning adult ... but his mom and dad decided NOT to allow the slave to educate him around matters of faith; instead, they wanted to take care of that themselves since they had embraced a relatively new religion, "Christianity".
As a family they attended Sunday services at a neighbors home where they did all the churchy things - sing, pray, memorize various Scriptures / Writings, etc. - and learned how it was the Christian's responsibility to serve God by serving those who were less fortunate.
And.
So.
... Seeds were planted in Nicholas' young mind.
Some legends say that Nicholas fell so much in love with all that he was learning about Jesus and the Christian faith that he quickly gave up hanging out with his friends so that he could have more time to ponder the teachings of Christ.
He read.
He studied.
He pondered.
And he continued to grow and mature, but then as he approached adulthood a plague swept through his community and took the lives of his parents ... and he was devastated.
Devastated.
Crushed.
Lost.
... And promptly moved into a monastery with his uncle who helped him recover from the loss and process through his pain; and that's when he decided to become a priest and give away ALL of his possessions, including the huge inheritance that his parents left behind.
Now's where it gets interesting.
Legend says that near where Nicholas lived there was a family who had 3 daughters and no money. The father had a hard time finding work and since marriage in those days required a dowery, his 3 daughters were destined to remain single forever. Nicholas, the story says, got wind of the father's predicament and as he pondered the teachings of Jesus he decided to sneak into the family's house while they were sleeping and leave them some gold coins.
Some stories say he crept up to the window and dropped the bags inside.
Other stories say they landed in a shoe.
Others say that he placed the coins in socks that were hanging by the fireplace to dry.
BUT.
Whatever the case may be, he did this for a few nights (1 night for each daughter) until on the 3rd night the father caught him, fell to his knees, and kissed Nicholas' hands in thanksgiving while Nicholas told the man to stand and give thanks to God instead.
Cool story, right?
And that makes me think all sorts of things ... especially about my daughter who adamantly believes in Santa Claus.
My wife and I toyed with whether or not we should "do Santa" at our house because we were worried that when Jordan discovered that there is "no such thing as Santa" she would hate us, think we lied to her, and never trust us again ... or that her ability to trust us would somehow be tainted.
BUT.
We decided to lead her down the Santa trail because of the historical figure of St. Nick and the many legends and stories that surround him ... stories like the one I shared above. One day when she discovers that "there is no Santa" we are going to tell her that indeed THERE IS a Santa.
St. Nick was a real, live person who lived in the 200's.
He was a historical figure.
He lived in modern day Turkey.
He grew up.
He went to church.
He experienced hardships.
He followed the ways of Jesus.
AND.
He did his very best to use what he had to bless others as he had been blessed.
"But daddy", she'll ask. "Are the stories true about him? Did he really drop bags of gold in the socks of a poor family?"
"Who knows", I'll say, "and does it matter? Do the stories have to be historically accurate in order for them to be true?
Look.
Santa is real, the stories are true and I know that to be fact because I see Santa Claus and the spirit of St. Nick in YOUR beautiful smile and YOUR gentle hands every time YOU help someone in need, every time YOU sit with the lonely kid at lunch, every time YOU come to the aid of someone who is being picked on in gym class, every time YOU go through your old clothes and toys and donate the ones you don't use anymore.
You put bags of gold in people's empty hearts every day!
I believe in Santa, Jordan, because I see the spirit of St. Nick in YOU every single day. You make me a believer in Santa.
And every year since you were born ... mommy, daddy, grandma, grandpa ... we've all tried to be Santa to you - trying to make your Christmas wishes come true.
In a way, we're all Santa, and we have the opportunity to bring his love and care and generosity to the world every moment of every day."
AND.
THEN.
IF I'm feeling extra brave that day.
Maybe I'll tell her to think back over what I just told her about Santa Claus and substitute "Santa" and "St. Nick" with "Jesus" and "Christ" ... and tell me what she thinks.
Yeah?
My head is spinning, time for my coffee.
—
GET THE ST. NICK BOOK HERE.