Jesus or Santa
by Frank Anthony
What will you remember about Christmas eighty years from now?
Will you remember where you are living now?
Were you comfortable?
Were you and your siblings looking forward to Christmas Eve?
Would you be enjoying your Grandparents?
When nearly four years old, I remember one present I kept for years,
a metal model of a gleaming, red, fire truck,
which had all the features of a real fire truck even working ladders.
It could have been from one or both of my parents.
I never forgot that fire truck!
Every Christmas, after that, it stuck in my mind:
Who had got me that present?
As I grew older it seemed clothing or something I could use in school
took the place of the perfect red fire truck.
But I never found out who bought it.
I had grown beyond the idea
that there was a Santa Claus who came down the chimney,
into the big fireplace,
and left the presents Christmas Eve,
we all looked forward to that night.
After I started St. Mary's grade school, Jesus took over Christmas.
There was a distinct difference between Santa from the North Pole,
and Jesus, the operator of heaven and hell.
For my younger readers, this is what I think life is all about:
The Santa we believed in was good to us, period.
Christ, of Christmas, rewards His favorites; sends others to hell!
This, my young friends, is where you get confused for eighty years or so.
All around us, people who know how to play the game "Easy Life,"
seem to get more and more of a rich life.
Poor people, who work harder for the rich,
get fewer rewards as they struggle to the end.
Does this mean that Christ (or God) favors the game players
and the poor are dependent on a Santa in whom they believe?
volume 11(6)
This poem is copyright © 2005, Frank Anthony, all rights reserved.
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