A famous letter from Virgina O'Hanlon to the
editor of The New York Sun
First printed in 1897
We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the
communication below, expressing at the same time our
great gratification that its faithful author is
numbered among the friends of The Sun:
Dear Editor,
I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say
there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it
in The Sun, it's so." Please tell me the truth, is
there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O'Hanlon
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have
been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age.
They do not believe except they see. They think that
nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their
little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be
men's or children's, are little. In this great universe
of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect
as compared with the boundless world about him, as
measured by the intelligence capable of grasping
the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as
certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist,
and you know that they abound and give to your life
its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would
be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would
be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There
would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance
to make tolerable this existence. We should have no
enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external
light with which childhood fills the world would be
extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not
believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire
men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve
to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see
Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove?
Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that
there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in
the world are those that neither children nor men
can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the
lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they
are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all
the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes
the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the
unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even
the united strength of all the strongest men that
ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, 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. No Santa Claus!
Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand
years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years
from now, he will continue to make glad the heart
of childhood.
