Yes, Virginia...

"I heard it on the wind. I heard it from the birds. I felt it in the sunlight. And your mom was just in here crying."
--Thomas Builds-The-Fire in Sherman Alexie's short story "What it Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona." (Also used in the wonderful film adaptation Smoke Signals)

When I was younger I was, for whatever little-kid reason, crawling around on my grandparent's driveway. Due to some optic discrepancy, I saw a strange flash of light beneath Grampo's little blue pickup.

This was somewhere during the beginning of the holiday season, so I was convinced that I had seen an elf, checking to see that I was behaving and maintaining my place on Santa's "good" list.

Keep in mind that my mother comes from a strong Catholic/Hispanic background, where a child's behavior is so incredibly important. I've decided that telling kids that Santa has sent out a diminutive surveillance crew is a perfect way to ensure proper behavior without parent's having to keep an eye on your young ones 24/7. Plus, it's got that Christian slant.

We all know that kids will believe pretty much anything (ever been "snipe" hunting as a child?). What's I find so magical (yes, it's cheesy) is that children will believe anything with all their hearts. They are so convinced of the most far-fetched things, and yet they don't question for one second that yes, Santa exists. Yes, magic can take place. Yes, some fairy pays me for my teeth. This last one I now find kind of weird. What use would anybody have for old teeth? It sounds a bit nasty.

I believed in all this and more as a child. I believed I'd one day be an astronaut, or an adventurer, or some kind of magician that could fly or make my lovely assistant truly disappear. In a way, being a writer, I'm technically capable of these things--but as I child I'd never considered the possibility of writing and, instead, my goals involved very literal visions of these dreams.

And now, I'm such a cynic. When did that happen? Not that I don't like cynicism (in fact, I love it), but when did I abandon the possibility of the impossible? Once again, I'm pondering such bittersweet notions, but as much as I can't stand kids sometimes, you gotta admit that they allow their minds to wander to places that we eventually deny ourselves access to.