I still recall that night, where we used to gather around the Christmas tree and decorate it altogether.
This tree that still accompanies my path and brings with it unmistakably a certain sweet joy. The joy of a 6-year-old boy, a little boy that waits for Santa Clause. He looks him straight in the eyes, trying to figure him out and bring out the seasonal cheer.
Santa Clause, I still believe, and I refuse not to…
We had in mind this idea of Santa Clause, that generous man who runs miles looking for kids, kids from each and every family. They had to be kind, obedient, no matter what their circumstance, so that he could grant them a glimpse of instant happiness, with gifts, and toys. I have nurtured this feeling of Christmas love throughout my life, until this day, as if I had stopped growing up. I have cultivated it so that the feeling remains to this day, without any loss of the feeling of making someone happy. To make those most in need happy, despite what life has taken away from them, despite the fact that they themselves have lost the meaning of joy and their joy of living, in such an unfair world.
This world and our Lebanon suffer from extreme injustice. Still, Santa Clause is here. Santa Clause is listening to us. He will do whatever it takes to extend his gifts list especially without forgetting anyone.
Yes, Christmas, celebration of generosity, celebration of love.
This fairytale decoration keeps me happy throughout this period but disappear after the Epiphany. The season blends magic with reality and seems eternal but we must come to our senses when the dream ends and wait until next year when Santa will come again with his happiness and take us back to this heaven.
