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Magic

Yes, Virginia There Is a Santa Claus gets my vote as one of the most thoughtful, beautiful and balanced pieces of writing. The backstory is just as fascinating as the letter itself. Once the reader knows that Frances Pharcellus Church was the office cynic the story gets better and better.  To read the setup of the story today one can just imagine the news room silencing itself to hear how Church would respond.  Church wouldn’t allow his byline to be used on a piece that played up superstitious beliefs. Up the ante one more time to learn that Church was a correspondent during the Civil War and witnessed first-hand so much suffering and loss of hope and faith in society.

Church’s now famous response was buried on the page in The New York Sun on September 21, 1897 readers took note.   In 1897 the Christmas season started the day after Thanksgiving not simultaneous with Halloween as we experience now.  Despite the fact that there is more shopping year-round than in 1897, there is still something in our collective brain that thinks retail come December 1.  In fact, if you anticipate needing an alarm clock or a terry bathrobe either buy it at Christmas or wait another year. Snark aside, I find myself getting a little fanciful during the Christmas season. 

One year I purchased an Ipod nano for a friend. To this day we don’t exchange presents but that year I knew she would particularly enjoy the gift.  I bought it in gold to continue a private joke and carefully tracked its progress to her house.  This was before Amazon prime delivery, so it was a process. It gave my life joy.

Sweeping floors does not fill me with joy.  I live with my daughter’s family and my son-in-law ends his work at home days by grabbing the broom to sweep the floors. I’ve already done it twice.  Between three kids doing virtual schooling and a serial cereal spreading two-year-old, the floors could be mistaken for the bottom of a bird cage.

Sure, when we talk about gifts it’s usually for children. There has been the most desirable item of the season like the Cabbage Patch dolls and, Beanie Babies and any numbers of various computer games. But I believe in the fanciful items for adults too. As an adult why can’t we want some item even if other regard it as a toy, simply for the joy of it. The item of this year seems to be robotic vacuum cleaners. I’m not usually a favor of appliances as Christmas gifts but this one fills me with wonder.

Oh, to wake up in the morning without the crunch similar to fallen snow under my slippers!  Valentino, our robot vacuum could work discreetly overnight. It will detour around abandon toys and chair legs swallowing the crumbs of Pop Tarts, Little Bites and trail of Frosted Flakes that leads directly to the last known location of Saoirse, the two-year-old.  Then, Valentino would park itself into its dock and empty itself. I’m liking this whole idea, a lot.

Several of my daughter’s friends are enjoying their robotic vacuums.  Since the kids are looking for a pet, my daughter could double back tape a stuffed animal to the top.  Voila! Two birds with one stone. No litter box to clean or poop to scoop.  

Valentino has certain dream-like, magical quality to me. I could call out: “Valentino, go get ‘em,” and it would.  These robotic vacuums navigate the floor plan of the house. But what if it was programmed to cruise in step with Saoirse? It could gobble the crumbs as they hit the floor. Don’t get creeped out. If my adorable Saoirse had a little puppy that was by her side every moment, you’d think it was cute. Just because Lassie never lapped up a snack from Timmy’s hand on camera doesn’t mean it never happened.

Of course, Saoirse is afraid of Benjamin’s remote-control dinosaurs.  If Valentino the vacuum tightened the circle on the bowl of goldfish in her hand and chased her back to the table, would it be a bad thing? I get giddy thinking of my four grandchildren cowering on the sofa watching a movie and protecting their bowl of popcorn from Valentino’s sweeping tentacles and self- cleaning brush roll.

If only, Valentino could be trained to handle stairs. I’d love to see it sneak up folding itself over each step by step, like the Spy vs Spy from Mad Magazine or Salvador Dali’s melting clocks. If Valentino could stealthily appear when Laney and Chloe reached the quota of dishes in their bedroom and stay at their heel until the dishes were placed in the dishwasher.

Ah, I’m getting ahead of myself, but a girl can believe. Frances Church encouraged it over a century ago. “Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.” Belief is not privilege of childhood.

I’m with Francis Church. I will not wait for a child to remind me that, “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.”

And please, please, please, Santa Baby bring Valentino the robotic vacuum to my house!