I can clearly remember the Christmas Day nineteen years ago. That was in 1988, the first year I was in kindergarten. All the kids were assembled in the school yard and waited for Santa Claus to distribute the gifts. When Santa Claus appeared in front of us, I heard no applause, nor did I feel any excitement. Because we all knew there were no Santa Claus. The one that was giving out Christmas presents was the kindergarten principal. We knew she disguised herself as a fat, jolly man with a white beard, and wearing in red suit trimmed in white. Santa Claus never exists, as told by our teachers and parents, in an early stage much earlier than appropriate.

We crater for truth, but truth is never meant to be easily found. Should I have kids of my own, I'd decide to better let them search for it by making judgements themselves. Santa Claus might just be a legend, but in a world we describe and define things solely on a basis of perception processed by the brain whose working mechanism is still largely uncharted, no absolute objectivity can be registered as purely as what it actually is. At the holy moment we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, let us contemplate the purpose of life and be enlightened by every step we have made toward our destiny.

Satisfaction does not rest upon what we did, but upon what we are and we will be doing; anxiety does not rest upon how much left we must accomplish, yet upon how we shall proceed. Life is a path to keep going on: mortal made eternal.

Merry Christmas!