The role of belief in our lives

Faces define the season for me, especially the kids. You may find adults who have a unique sparkle in their eyes, but no one shines brighter than the children.

They have what we lack; the power to believe. You can weave language into a complex web of intricate description to characterize Christmas in its myriad interpretations, but why bother. You’re only wasting your breath.

Kids don’t need verbiage; they get it immediately. They understand the significance of the season and communicate its joy and exuberance with little more than a glance. Indeed, few have the elocutionary skills to colour it as pundits and poets have, but their faces express the spirit of the season in ways that transcend any measure of carefully wrought nouns and verbs.

It hurts to admit, but I can’t quite recall how they do it. How they take something as incredible as a star in the heavens 2,000 years ago or the concept of reindeer in flight guiding a sleigh marshalled by a portly elf and accept it as eminently possible.

The popular habit is to analyze the thing, uncover its root, its meaning, its context, its purpose, its inherent possibility, and miss it all entirely.

A child merely accepts and understands. End of story. My daughter tells me there are three very important people in the world: God, baby Jesus and Santa. I’m hoping to crack that list sometime soon, but I don’t think it’s going to happen this year.

She proclaims this matter-of-factly because there’s no question in her mind. Each is a real force in her imagination and her eyes are positively ablaze as she rattles off the list. Her face, however, is serene, creating for me a visual paradox. Part of her is clearly impassioned; another is nonchalant. I’m left wondering how that’s possible.

I’m not alone in this, I’m sure. Next time you’re in the mall, for instance, and Santa has a child perched on his knee, look closely. There’s nothing as intent as the child’s face when Santa whispers in the kid’s ear, asks about Christmas wishes and entreats good behaviour.

And few things as animated once the conversation is over and the child returns to the company of his parents. You can hear it now: ‘Did you see…?’ ‘He told me….’ And, ‘Look! A candy cane! He gave me a candy cane!’

Ultimately, the faces communicate everything. Each is a benediction, something that promotes goodness or well-being, and it’s hard not to smile. It sure takes you back, too, doesn’t it?

There’s not enough of this unbridled energy in the world and it’s a shame we see it most often only at this time of year. Thank goodness, though, we’re granted a reaffirming glimpse in the days leading up to Christmas.

It’s a reminder of what we have lost and a clarion call to remember the huge role belief has in our lives.