It was Christmas Eve, and eight-year-old Cole was down in Papaw’s office with my adult cousins, Mara and Nicole. They were using Papaw’s computer to look at a website which tracks Santa on his sleigh. The site predicted the approximate time that Santa might be landing on our rooftop.

Aunt Mara was saying, “See, Cole? He’s in New York right now and he’s headed this way! You’re gonna want to go right to sleep when your mom and dad tuck you in!” Cole nodded solemnly, taking it all in.

A few minutes later, he pulled me aside and whispered, “Mom… I think Aunt Mara believes in Santa! Do you think I should tell her he isn’t real?”

I assured him that Aunt Mara would be OK– he didn’t need to break it to her.

But you might have a cousin or friend or brother or aunt who’s not OK. Has she lumped Jesus in with Santa? Does she think of Him as another magical character arriving on Christmas Eve–another story to tickle a child’s fantasy?

If so, you might whisper to me, “Do you think I should tell her that He is real?” And I will answer you, “Yes! Tell her quick and tell her well!” For there’s no website which can predict the approximate time that He’ll arrive once again, coming to whisk those who believe off to His kingdom.

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