I count myself fortunate when I get to spend some time at school with the kids as Christmas approaches. Admittedly, it can be a bit crazy as energy levels are high and the kids are “wound up.” But I try to enjoy their energy and stay focused on the tasks at hand.

One of the questions I had during my most recent assignment was a bit different. “Mr. Boomsma, how do you make the letter “o” in cursive?” It’s not as easy to answer as one might think but I share it for those who complain the schools aren’t teaching cursive any more. (It turned out the question was actually about the little “hooky thing” that connects it to the next letter.)

The second question was a bit more difficult. A fifth grade boy was not kidding–the question was sincere. “Mr. Boomsma, is Santa Claus real?”

Fortunately, his neighbor interceded, assuring him that Santa Claus was very real. She’d seen him and told the story of her sighting in great detail. However, I should have known I wasn’t off the hook. He looked at me and asked, “Have YOU seen him?” The look on the girl seemed to say they’d both like some assurance.

I’d recently read the news story of a substitute teacher who was ultimately terminated after telling a first-grade class that Santa Claus isn’t real. So like the cursive question, this is not quite as simple as it might first seem.

If it wasn’t Christmas Eve, we might explore several techniques one can use when asked a difficult question. I answered his question by telling him and his seatmate a story, emphasizing it was absolutely true. I will share it with you.

When I was about six, I began to question Santa’s existence. Some of the kids I went to school with were quite convinced “your parents are Santa.” As luck would have it, we were having a “green Christmas” without a hint of snow. So our spirits were dampened and it was easy to believe in something less magical and fun.

To fully appreciate what happened, I need to explain that we lived in a very small town, miles away from any airports or flight paths. We rarely saw or heard planes.

That Christmas Eve announced to my Dad that I was pretty sure there was no such thing as Santa Claus. I reached this conclusion primarily based on the fact there was no snow. His sleigh wouldn’t work.

Since there was no question to answer, my Dad stated, in a rather matter-of-fact tone, “Oh, he comes in a helicopter when there’s no snow.” I was then sent outside to do one of my nightly chores.

It was not the first time I found myself truly torn. I could usually figure out when Dad was teasing but I believed with all my heart that he would never lie to me. Still, his explanation somehow didn’t feel right and I couldn’t detect that little smile that gave him away when he was teasing or joking. It was quiet and cold outside. I wondered if I should continue the conversation when I returned to the warmth inside.

While I was contemplating this, I heard a noise off in the distance… “whomp, whomp,..” Omigod! A helicopter! It flew right over my head, very low, lights flashing! I hurriedly finished my chore, ran back into the house, climbed the stairs two at a time and jumped into bed with my clothes on, pulling the covers up to my neck and pretending to be asleep.

The kids at school seemed to enjoy my story and accepted it at face value. So do I. I don’t really know where that helicopter came from and why it flew over our house at precisely that moment. But I do know that I learned some things about the magic of Christmas and the importance of believing.

Telling the story reminded of another person who was asked almost the same question. In 1897, Francis Pharcellus Church, a former Civil War correspondent and editor at the New York Sun, received a letter from the then 8-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon questioning Santa’s existence. His answer is not just for kids. It speaks to the innocent joy of childhood and the power of belief. There’s a link at the bottom of this post. It’s important to read it.

My wish for you this Christmas is that you too might hear a helicopter… or hear or experience whatever it takes to help you believe in all of the things Christmas is supposed to be about.