Yes Santa Claus, there is a Virginia (and a Kiarra too)

We live in an age of cynicism, and materialism.  Our hearts grow harder by the day as we try to achieve a life where success is defined in terms of titles and material comforts.  We spend more time at work than with the family, and become so immersed in our own problems that we forget about the problems of others.  We look at the homeless, the indigent, and the sickly as someone else’s problem; maybe the government will take care of them.  We live in a mean-spirited age, where the weak or different are bullied and picked-upon.  Where the elderly are easily discarded. Where kids grow up too fast, and still, unfortunately, too many don’t grow up at all. Yet amidst all this despair, there still exists the faintest glimmer of hope known as the human heart, and the human spirit, as I have seen it myself.

Yes Santa Claus, there is a Virginia, and her lovely daughter Kiarra too.  A week ago, I didn’t know them, and now I will never forget them, and what a dreary world it would be without them.  They are the mother and daughter I met at the Starlight Foundation Santa Claus Breakfast, the day I learned the true meaning of Christmas.  The Starlight Foundation helps bring joy into the hearts of seriously ill, often terminally ill children.  It helps them cope with the isolation and loneliness, the pain and suffering, and gives them a chance to share in the joy of childhood that we all take for granted.

The Santa Claus breakfast is the only Christmas some of these children have.  Many of the families are decimated financially from the costs incurred through medical care.  Most have woefully inadequate coverage.  Thus, to see these kids light up, and be kids for just a little while, was magic enough.  To see kids that have spent an interminable amount of time in waiting rooms, hospital lobbies, and operating rooms sitting on Santa’s lap and grinning ear to ear found Christmas in my heart in a way that all the gifts I have ever received never could.  It was blindingly pure.  It was a Christmas miracle.  And then there were Virginia and Kiarra.  My first and best gift of the season.

Yes Santa Claus, there is a Virgina.  She is from the “Boogie Down Bronx,” and she is the devoted mother of an adorable wheelchair bound six year old who loves the Food Network and cooking in her kitchen.  Over the course of a car ride back into NYC, I was able to get to know her and her “miracle baby” Kiarra.   She told me how important Starlight was to her family, giving them hope year round.  We never discussed illness, although it was something they both dealt with daily. Instead, I was floored by her optimism, her boundless joy, the love their family shared, and the complete lack of self-pity in her words and mannerisms.  She understood she had been given a great gift.  A perfect love in an imperfect world.  One that transcends the physical limitations and touches the heart.  It touched my heart.

I realized at that point that I had been shown something very special.  I was allowed to play Santa Claus, and finally understood what it meant to be Santa Claus.  To give selflessly, to bring joy into the lives of others, and to give something that cannot be wrapped or topped with a bow. To have the Christmas Spirit, the Human Spirit, is to spread your light to all around you.  That day, I thought I was giving to them, but in retrospect, I was given the gift.  The gift of goodness, of faith in a faithless time, of charity, and of hope.

Yes Santa Claus, there is a Virgina and a Kiarra, and it is precisely because of them that we need to let joy into our hearts, and let our light shine in a troubled world. Merry Christmas, my friends.

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