B: I don’t know what to believe.
M: Don’t worry too much about it. Next year you can think about Santa and your heart will know what’s real.
B: How does my heart know what’s real?
M: Sometimes you can got to that quiet place inside, that place where you know
you’re you. That’s the safe place where instinct tells you what’s true. It’s like
the source of you, deep inside your blood.
B: Sometimes I believe he’s real and sometimes I don’t. Santa isn’t really going
to eat that bowl of Cheerios I put on the fireplace bricks.
M: How do you know that?
B: Santa isn’t real.
M: Do you know what Grandpa Jack used to tell me when I was your age?
M: He told me that Santa was magic and that he believed in magic.
B: I believe in magic.
M: Then why not just trust that much and keep the rest in a low key place
inside your heart? You don’t need to tell the world about your thoughts.
You can keep them private and in the family. No one really knows any of it
for certain, anyway.
B: I love you Mom.
M: I love you too, Sweetheart. I love you with my whole heart, more than my own
life. I would lay my body down to protect you from harm. I want you to
have a full life of peace, joy and fun. I want you to feel everything, and go for
all of it. You are a gift from God to me. I am a whole person because I have
been your mother. You gave me that gift, and I’m so grateful to you.
B: Ya, I know, you’ve told me before.
M: I will tell you again and again, because it’s true, and it feels like Santa to me,
because you are a gift, and you are magical in my life. You taught me what
love means, just by being you.
B: I’m going to believe for a little while longer, I think.
M: You have nothing to lose, Sonny.
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