“Is There a Santa Claus?” – A Poem by Me

On this gorgeous day of Christmas, I am posting here a poem on Santa Claus that I wrote last year… The poem is themed on the existence of the legendary figure – Santa Claus, and it is named “Is There a Santa Claus?” – A question that arises in a child’s heart, which she asks to the world.

The poem is based on an editorial which appeared in The (New York) Sun on September 21, 1897. Its author was Francis Pharcellus Church. However, some changes are made in the poem with respect to the original article. The child is named Rose and the incident is set in an imaginary city called the Sun City.

The editorial, which included the famous reply “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus”, has become an indelible part of popular Christmas folklore. A copy of the original article is also included in the post.

Here comes the poem →

IS THERE A SANTA CLAUS?

One fine day, in the Sun City May,
A little child Rose, rose with dismay –
“Dear people, hi… I am eight years old,
No lust for silver or glitter or gold…
Just one curiosity at the core of my heart,
Please answer me, with the most truthful art…

“I and Johnny were talking with glee
Of the church, the candles and the Christmas tree…
And then my friend made all joy flee
‘THERE’S NO SANTA CLAUS!’ – Says he…
And so said my most intelligent friends
To murder the spirit of Christmas trends…

“The schoolbook says to make a voting
Whenever you have the opinions floating…
That’s a question from the core of my heart,
Please answer me, with the most truthful art…”

The world thought for a minute or two
But nobody came to offer a clue…
All the countries were at a pause
To the easiest-hardest question – Is there a Santa Claus?

But then came walking the Sun City King,
The ruler of utopia, the lord of the ring…
To answer little Rose most nicely
As he always thought so wisely…
And the world and Rose listened with pause
Is there a Santa Claus?

“Rose, your little friends are wrong
They faith no Christmas nor love nor song…
And are too affected by the skeptical age
They faith no Santa nor God nor sage…
And not believe what they don’t see
They faith no fairies nor saints nor Thee…
And have read books on devils and ills
They faith no garden nor river nor hills…

“They think that surely nothing can be
That they not decipher, they not see…
Affected are they and their little minds
By the ego of man and social blinds…
Well, all minds in this world too wide
Aren’t more than something too tiny to hide…
Well, all minds of kids, of youth, of olds
Aren’t more than the man’s blindfolds…
In the boundless world, no end to learn
Man is an insect, still too stubborn…
When his intellect is weighed with the world,
He knows no knowledge, nor letter nor word…

“Yes dear Rose, THERE IS A SANTA CLAUS!
This is full truth, with not any flaws.
He exists as surely as love and elation
Which comfort the world, the earth, the nation…
He exists as surely as peace and happiness
That give life its highest beauty and freshness…

“Alas! How dreary would be the world,
Without Santa Claus, like no cream and curd…
It would be as if there were no Roses,
No kids like you, no laughing doses…
There’d be no childlike faith and patience,
Nothing to make tolerable this existence…

“No faith in Santa, now that’s too scary,
The future seems dark – No angel nor fairy
Will stay here on, without believing,
And announce some day that ‘We’re leaving!
Be jolly with the thinking you are putting on then,
Be glad with your world, you women and men!’

“Exists a Santa, but for those
Who show no ego, nor pomp, nor pose…
Your friends may get on their papas even,
To call up guards and hire up men,
To watch all chimneys the whole Christmas night,
To show they have got no Santa’s sight…
But even if they did not see him in groove,
What great thing now does that prove?
The most real things no human can see,
Be it love or faith it be…
No one can conceive or imagine in the world
The wonders unseen, unseenables and blurred…

“One may tear apart a baby’s rattle,
To find what makes the inside clattle…
But not the strength of strongest man,
Nor the sum of strongest men
That ever have lived, can ever tear
The curtains of the unseen world, my dear…

“It is all true and real, oh world!
Only faith and art and love
Can tear up that curtain’s bond,
To view the supernaturals beyond…
In all this world, there’s nothing else hiding
So real, so blessed and so abiding…

“Thank God! Santa vanishes never,
He lives and lives on forever…
For the future’s thousand years,
Nay, ten times ten thousand years,
Santa Claus will and always will
Make the heart of childhood thrill…”

Here is the original editorial published in The (New York) Sun:

Original article in The (New York) Sun, September 21, 1897
Original article in The (New York) Sun, September 21, 1897
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