YES WORLD, THERE IS AN AMERICAN SPIRIT

 

For two hundred years America was viewed by the common man of the world as the pillar of freedom, a source of hope and an ideal that resided not only in the physical aspects of the country but in the spirit of a new and great nation.  America is now viewed by many as a country divided, inefficient, unable to lead and a feeling by the world that the spirit of America was only a myth.  I say bunk.  Great nations go through various cycles.  Some emerge with a new sense of purpose and grow stronger while others continue a downward spiral that ultimately leads to their demise.  America now has an opportunity to take a time-out from the forces that have been at odds with each other, reflect on what has gone wrong and emerge once again as a beacon for the world to follow.  We now have an excuse, an opportunity to reach across the aisle in Washington and build America again as one nation.

As we approach the wondrous holiday of Christmas there is one story that perhaps provides reassurance that the American spirit is not a myth but is instead a concept that has been shrouded in a cloak of pessimism by nay sayers that see the glass as being half empty instead of half full.  Let us find hope in the American dream as we read the words of a small eight-year-old at Christmas and the response to these by a newspaper editor in 1897.

“DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’ Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

VIRGINIA O’HANLON. 115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except what they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood. “

Merry Christmas everyone and may the spirit of Christmas and the spirit of America glow brighter in the hearts of all of us.

IN THE EYES OF A CHILD

After three months of being reminded in every major store that Christmas is on the way, after Black Friday and Cyber Monday and Christmas movies we wake up and declare in amazement that it’s hard to believe that Christmas is almost here. While we were being saturated with new toys for both child and man to the point of ad nausea, we were having to endure everything from declarations that Obamacare had collapsed and Iran would ultimately get their nuclear bomb while making America look like a paper lion. The spirit of the season took a beating and the cynic was alive in America.
This week I discovered that despite all the dire predictions and oversaturation of the season and attacks on the holiday traditions, Christmas is truly as alive today as it was when I was a child in rural North Louisiana. I came to this realization not from my radio playing Christmas Carols nor from the ringing bells at the Salvation Army kettles. The true spirit of Christmas was rediscovered in the eyes of my granddaughter. As I looked into those clear blue eyes twinkling as I looked at her, full of wonderment and joy and devoid of anything but good and happiness I realized that I had found the true spirit of Christmas. In these eyes I saw a child filled with the ideals that there is no bad in the world and the future is full of hope and optimism. Suddenly I realized that I was not only looking at a resurrection in my own belief of the Spirit of Christmas but was looking at the future or our country with a profound effect on the future of our world. So if you ever doubt that the spirit of Christmas is dead, that commercialism has ruined our view on the real meaning of the season or if political correctiveness is tarnishing our holiday spirit, look into the eyes of a child. The innocence will melt the heart of even the most cold hearted Grinch.
George Patton, WWII General that struck fear in the German Army, touted the spirit of the American athlete and compared this to the American soldier and explained that this desire to win was a reason that America would win the upcoming battles and ultimately the war. Our love for sports lifts entire communities to a point of euphoria with pride that a winning team provides. Conversely, the team is an extension of the community and what the community provides to the success of the team. In the Far North, hockey is played and revered by the towns that dot the forests of the frozen North. In the inner cities, basketball rules and the proof is found throughout our NBA. But when it comes to the Deep South, everything takes a back seat to our beloved Football. “When the going gets tough the tough get going” or “it’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog that matters” or “a chain is only as strong as its’ weakest link” are platitudes that explains lessons learned in football that carry on in life and helps to provide ongoing direction to a magnificent country. It’s amazing how a town or in our case a parish can be viewed and judged by a team’s success on the grid iron. And to witness this anomaly that is foreign to most living outside the borders of the United States, we need look no further than Union Parish High School.