“Mom,” came the frantic whisper in my ear. “I heard thumping on the stairs. I think it is the Easter Bunny!”
Having played switch-hitter for the big bunny just a few short hours ago I could have saved myself a trip from my warm bed, but instead I forced myself to check things out as my son waited anxiously for the report. “No bunny yet,” I announced tucking the blanket around his chin. “I’m sure he’ll be here before morning, though.”
My husband and I have never been big on promoting fantasies of magical bunnies or men in red suits who sneak around people’s houses showering good little boys and girls with gifts. Don’t get me wrong, our last name isn’t Scrooge. We never told our son these legendary characters didn’t exist, we just never introduced the idea to him. Instead, he picked up the information here and there, and now makes up the rest as he goes along. His imagination is astonishing!
There are some pretty obvious clues around our house to point to who the Easter Bunny and Santa really are. Weeks before Christmas, my office door happens to be locked every time someone but myself wants in. I arrive from shopping with bags of wrapping paper, tape and bows, all of which mysteriously disappear over the next few weeks. My husband and I know every detail of every gift our child receives as soon as it is opened, despite his conviction that we are viewing it for the first time along with him. And, strange as it may seem, we know exactly how many eggs we have to find each Easter, and if our small son has trouble locating all of them we have a “sixth sense” that tells us where to look.
These discrepancies in the imaginary stories of the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus don’t bother children a bit. They are willing to overlook the obvious to invest in the fun of the fantasy. They believe exactly what they choose to believe—despite any evidence to the contrary. I love the line from the movie “The Santa Clause,” when Tim Allen is in the North Pole and demands it is all a dream; that he isn’t really seeing any of it. A delightful elf replies “That’s the difference between a child and a grown-up. To a child, seeing isn’t believing. Believing is seeing.”
Is there a lesson in this for you and me? What do you choose to believe? Do you look first at the cold hard facts? I know I do. I see an option before me and review my schedule (full), my pocketbook (empty), and all of the other excuses I can come up with to tell myself “It can’t be done.” How much more happy and fulfilled would I be if I just acted like a child and invested in a little hope? While it’s important to keep our “feet on the ground,” it’s also good to remember that if those feet stay firmly planted we’ll never get anywhere.
True, a child believes in Santa or the Easter Bunny and is able to benefit from that belief because there are people in the background helping to fulfill the fantasy. But why should that be any different for an adult? Just as children are surrounded by friends, family, and even strangers who care enough to help make their dreams come true - so are we. Unfortunately, as we “grow up” we think we have to handle it all alone. No wonder we have trouble believing in miracles!
Belief isn’t for the young alone, and it isn’t confined to storybook characters like the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Tap into your imaginings; follow your dreams. Accept, and even ask for the help of those who can help you make them come true. You may be surprised at the power you possess when you allow yourself to act as a child…and just believe!
Copyright, 2003
“Mom,”