Santa Claus is one of the most beloved figures for many Christians. Santa, who goes by names such as Kris Kringle, St. Nicholas and Father Christmas, was known to be a man who was generous, especially to children, back in fourth century Myra, which is where Turkey is located now. St. Nicholas became known throughout Europe and eventually became the patron saint of Russia. He reportedly had a long white beard and a red cape. His legend of generosity continued in Holland. The Dutch spelt his name Sint Nikolaas, which eventually led to “Sinterklaas,” and ultimately Santa Claus emerged when the Dutch came to America in the 17th century.
This is a fact related to Christmas. Perhaps Santa is real for the rich for they have pockets that can afford Santa’s gift. But what about those living down the line. Is Santa real to them? Will they ever wake up with Santa’s gift beneath their pillow or fitted in those customary pair of Socks. Certainly not! Santa is one and those poor children of God are too many to be reached by one Santa.
What i mean is Be A Santa To Those Who Sleep in hope to wake up feeling that yes he visited. Be a Santa To the poor and make their Christmas Special. Give Away all your love and make the world a better place to live for you and for me and for entire human race! Indeed make Santa happen to be real for those who actually need him. Bring out the real Santa in you.
Lets raise the toast to the poor children this Christmas! Let the bells actually bring songs of joy in their lives, Let the awaited Dark night bring fortune to their tomorrows’ might!
Let us give back to them the lost opportunity.
This Christmas here’s something dedicated to the happiness seekers.
As I look through my window
I see the children playing merrily round the willows,
oblivious of the worldly blows.
Alas! there are some who reflect a situation of juxtapose .
Those unfortunate lads are cursed,
They toil for hours,
And are devoid of the blissful showers,
Being ruled by the words of the nerds
who deprive them from being free birds.
To them childhood is a lost opportunity,
a farfetched reality across the rivers peninsulas,
For their life draws upon the cinemas
of a two letter paradox-:child-labour,
Oh my friend! These two words are akin to a sabre,
Ripping their souls for their future goals.
Life is a mere compromise for them,
Whence they are trapped in a vicious circle of an unlucky gem
Poverty is the only factor
And its time to close this chapter.
Their right to a better life is still due
And those in power need to add it to the queue of the things to get through.
Though there are laws for the same
Yet many amongst us flout the game
And there after their childhood refuses to sprout again.
Perhaps! Their only fault was they were not born with a silver spoon in mouth and thus were foredoomed to feed their masters’ mouths...