Don't Stop Believing

This time of year, there’s always a lot of talk about believing, hope, giving, and all the good things in life. We talk about love and new beginnings. But for many, the season brings something else: stress, loneliness, or disappointment. Watching all the festivities—the people who seem to have it all together, the twinkling lights, the perfect decorations—can sometimes make us feel even more hollow inside. You may even begin to wonder, Have I lost the feeling of the season?

I remember one December when that question hit me hard. I had just quit one job and started another, but it didn’t pay as much. I was struggling mentally as well. Money was tight, and my belief in anything was even tighter.

My daughter was in fourth grade, at a new school because of my job change. She wasn’t happy, and I was doing my best to keep us both afloat. Wanting to be honest, I sat her down and explained that there wouldn’t be anything special that year—no gifts, no fancy food, nothing. She looked up at me with somber eyes and said softly, “I know, Mommy. And it’s okay, because Santa won’t forget us.”

My heart tore in two. I just couldn’t tell her that might not be true. Her belief in Santa was unshakable, and I didn’t have the heart—or the faith—to take that away.

I was seeing a therapist, someone I drove two counties away to visit because it was cheaper than finding one nearby. I sobbed in her office, telling her how terrible I felt that I couldn’t give my little girl the holiday she deserved. She listened quietly and then said, “Don’t stop believing.”

“Sure,” I replied, my voice heavy with disbelief. I thought I knew the facts: I was a bad mom who was about to disappoint her daughter. My own faith in magic had vanished years ago, and I didn’t see how to get it back.

The next weekend, there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, a man stood there holding a large box. He looked at me kindly and asked, “Do you believe?”

I must have looked completely confused—half ready to slam the door or call for help. Then I saw what was in his hands: a box full of food.

“Pardon me?” I asked.

“I heard you and your daughter were struggling this season,” he said. “I have some things for you.”

“What? Who? What? Huh?” I stammered.

He smiled and handed me the box. “This is yours.”

“Thank you,” I managed to whisper. “This is… very helpful.”

“Hold on,” he said. “I have more.”

“More?”

I set the groceries down just as he returned with another box—this one filled with beautifully wrapped gifts. Tears welled up in my eyes. Could this be real? Was I dreaming? Then came another box, also full of presents.

I stammered, “No! This is too much! This can’t all be for us.”

He smiled again. “Are you Janet?”

“Yes.”

“Then this is for you and your daughter. Have a wonderful holiday.”

As he turned to leave, my daughter came into the room and asked, “Mommy, who was that?”

“That, my child,” I said, my voice trembling, “was Santa. You were right—he did come. I believe. And I will never doubt again.”

That year, we had the best holiday ever. There were two turkeys, a ham, and all the fixings. There were gifts for her—and for me. Every holiday season since, I give back whenever I can, often anonymously. I want others to believe in the spirit of the holidays. Whether it’s something small or something big, my hope is that no one ever stops believing—in themselves, in life, in hope, and yes, even in Santa.

I also learned something important that year: Santa found me because I spoke up. If I hadn’t shared what was going on, that miracle might never have come. So my request to you is this—let people know when you’re struggling. People can’t read minds. They can’t always help everyone, but many will if they only know you need it.

Most of all, don’t stop believing. Things can and will change. Nothing ever stays the same—and you can be part of that change. People, at their core, are kind and giving. Look for that in others, and you’ll find it.

Believe you are worth it—because I already know you are.

And when you do, the world just might send a little “Santa” your way.

Happy Holidays.