I'm not afraid of Christmas.

A few days ago, a courier truck driver had a very reckless day a few miles away from where we live, en route to Kurt's work. Somehow, the doors of the van came open and $200,000 went flying into the wind. People pulled over, snatching bills out of the air and tackling plastic bags full of money.

Imagine that.

Our car is broken down and in the shop. It's been there all week. We've choreographed a routine where Kurt comes home at lunch, we get all bundled up and take him back. Then, we drop off sissy at school and Louise and I run home for a quick nap. We pick Scouty up and then go get daddy and we all come home together. It's been Christmassy, in a family togetherness sort of way.

Yesterday, during our lunch break trip, Kurt told me about how people were driving to work and suddenly, there was an explosion of money. It was dancing in the air, being thrown around in the wind.

I love the idea.

I love that people were grabbing fistfuls of dollar bills and laughing to themselves, marveling over their weird luck.

Kurt said, "Don't you think a lot of people have a new story about how they believe in God, because of this?"

I said, "Yeah."

He said, "I think that if I had been there, I'd probably reconsider the way I feel about Santa not being real."

I said, "But not God?"

He said, "Well, I mean... no."



The thing about the holidays is, a lot of us are feeling the same way. Not having money to create the explosion of glitter and light in our Christmas dreams, it makes us feel lonely and like the world is dark. Some of us don't really have money for presents. Some of us will be stretching ourselves thin for gas money to make it home on Christmas Eve.

We're not alone in this, though. Just lonely.

There are trucks full of money exploding in some people's holiday planning. The police are issuing statements that the money is the property of the bank, to please bring it back. One man returned the $60 he found fluttering around his head.

The loneliness and fear are part of the magic.

Trips to glowing department stores, fingertips freezing, coughing into your elbow. Snowflakes being illuminated like stars in hyperspace. Windshield wipers that stick and screech. Tinny, hollow voices singing silent night on the radio.

And then we return home where the lamplight is golden. We all make it. We're lonely and we're scared, but that's just because we're always lonely and scared.

What if we decided not to be, this time? What if we remembered that we're safe and warm and that everybody around us is feeling the same ways we are? What if we just decided to believe that everything will be okay, like it always is? Actually, everything will be wonderful. We're always scared and we're always lonely in our fear and everything is always wonderful.

People were grabbing money out of the air.

I kind of believe in Santa.