Watching the wonderment in a child’s eyes at Christmas is a sight for our adult eyes to behold. The squeals, the joy, the shear anticipation of a child waiting for magic to occur on Christmas Eve is more magical than a great illusionist could deliver.

Children are born to believe. Most grow up believing that Santa will come into their own living room and bring them all they had wished for. They know that somewhere north is a place that manufactures toys 364 days a year just so they will have one. They believe in elves that work hard for their boss, and they can almost taste the cookies Mrs. Claus makes.

Children look for snowflakes to fall and Frosty to come alive one day. It is easy for a child to believe because they simply haven’t grown up yet.

Or, maybe, it is too hard for the grown-up to believe because they simply haven’t become a child yet?

I am not exactly sure what happens to folks that no longer believe in much of anything. They no longer embrace the spirit of Christmas or the spirit of God. The wonderment of life has disappeared.

Did resentment settle in? Did the office come home to roost under the tree? Did tragedy extinguish the sparkle?

The whole of Christmas is based on believing like the child. A child always has hope. Life has yet to blur the lines of anticipation, joy, and magic.

There are some adults that think belief is childlike foolishness. They are hard to convince otherwise.  Their brilliance seems to blind them from feeling the deep joy of believing in something more brilliant than themselves.

There is a reason God said that you must become childlike to believe.

When my granddaughter was 2 ½ she was sitting in my lap as we watched the Polar Express on a DVD. I had never seen the movie and once we started it, I thought it might be too scary or too advanced for her to watch.

She sat nestled in my arms without moving; staring at the television transfixed.

If you have never watched the movie, it is about a boy who questions his belief in Santa. His Christmas Spirit is waning and sadness is creeping into his soul as others are celebrating the season.

A magical train pulls into his front yard and a ticket appears in his hand inscribed with the word, “Believe.” He boards the train per the conductor’s orders and meets other children feeling the same sad way. They are all in for an adventuresome trip to the North Pole.

Along the way, they pick up a little boy whose name is Billy. Little Billy had never received a present because he thought Santa had just not noticed this shy child who came from a very humble family.

Adventures and scary moments accompany the children on the train and finally they arrive at the North Pole. Santa is alive and well and the elves are there in multitudes.

The children all finally believe again and return home, including Billy who is clutching his first gift.

Santa gave the protagonist a silver bell and told him that if he continues to believe, he would always be able to hear it jingle.

The movie ended, and my granddaughter cupped her little hands around my face, looked straight into my eyes, and said, “Grandma, is Billy going to be alright?”

She understood the whole movie.

A year or two later Avery received American Girl doll twins for her birthday. A boy and a girl.

“What are their names?” I questioned.

“Caroline.”

“What about the boy?” I asked.

“Billy.”

“Are you finally going to take care of him, Avery?”

“Always, Grandma!” she exclaimed.

Years later, when Avery started questioning the idea of Santa, she found a box under our tree with her name on it.

Beautifully wrapped, she carefully untied its bow. Inside was a sterling silver bell with a leather tie.

Inscribed on its side, “Believe.”

When we are born we all board a train to a final destination. We encounter scary moments during our trip. We meet friends and loved ones to help us through it all. There are adventures and magical moments during our ride.

However, where is our final stop? If we have picked up the ticket marked “Believe,” the journey never ends.

Belief is the heart of Christmas. The child born on a magical night long ago is our ticket to peace and joy. To believe that there is a God who guides and directs us is like picking up a silver bell and hearing a magic jingle.

Just like a child.

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Merry Christmas to each one of you.  Thank you so much for reading my little stories and for your wonderful support. May God richly bless you and may you always believe in the wonderment of life.

With love, Lynn