Christmas comes only once a year. You cannot exaggerate it. You cannot overstate it.
It is a rich festival that belongs to mothers, fathers and children.
It is not the time to talk about situations, nor conditions, nor people who emerge briefly into the scene.
You see, Christmas is made of equal parts of love, good cheer, gentleness and humor — as you listen to the words and music of Christmas carols.
Last Sunday, at the Gold Crest Grounds in the City of Bellflower, this rich yuletide feas, ran the full gamut of Christmas moods — from tender reminiscence, to rollick jollity of sweet love and little hearts in joyous splendor.
In the warmth of the sun and sweltering bright daylight, Santa Claus burst into the scene—like the allied invasion, preceded by military escorts, high up in a war tank and ablaze with warfare.
In camouflaged red shorts, Santa shouts: “I wish you a Merry Christmas!”
The jolly one, who is merry and the jovial inspiration of the jolliest jolly, frolicked with little children and all the little sweethearts.
Hugging their gifts, the little ones ran up and seated themselves on Santa’s lap, whispering in his ear.
The gifts kept pouring — there were presents everywhere for the picking. I saw the littlest one with a golden star on his heart, which a Christmas tree could have worn on its happiest evening.
The children marched on, wearing their best clothes and watching breathlessly as presents poured. The most alluring bundles of gifts! Dolls with eyes that would open and close, toys that sang and danced.
The presents, which glowed and glittered in the sun, were only a tiny part of the work.
The Filipino American Law Enforcement Officers Association – Los Angeles Chapter (FALEO) and Golden Crest made this day possible for foster children, who, despite not knowing what a real home, permanence or perfect joy are like, still have child-like faith in Santa.
Foster children are like little adults — they never meditate on the origins of wealth, nor upon the inequality of human conditions; they never ask if life redresses the balance; they only dream of a world that is wide and beautiful, like Christmas in July — with hearts warm, hands tender and spirits generous.
I wish the world is as kind as the children imagine it to be.
