2006-12-13 05:33:22 · 21 answers · asked by jumpy 1 in Games & Recreation ➔ Toys
If you want him to.
2006-12-13 05:35:59 · answer #1 · answered by Anonymous · 0⤊ 0⤋
Yes. The man referred to as Santa Claus was known hundreds of years ago as St. Nicholas. A quick look at wikipedia will probably tell you more about him than you would ever want to know.
2006-12-13 05:41:08 · answer #2 · answered by brainiac5 2 · 2⤊ 0⤋
I believe that he WAS a real person, like, 300 years ago. I write letters to Dark Santa.
2006-12-13 05:48:55 · answer #3 · answered by People229 1 · 0⤊ 1⤋
look,sorry for all of you hoo keep saying santa's real,if he was real i would have an extra $300 in my pocket and the attic would not be stashed with my kids darn presents
2006-12-13 10:30:00 · answer #4 · answered by Jacob L 3 · 0⤊ 1⤋
Of course he is real! Don't pay any attention to what the texan says: He is nothing but a Scrooge.
2006-12-13 05:44:26 · answer #5 · answered by JUAN FRAN$$$ 7 · 1⤊ 0⤋
If you belive hes real hes real i belive hes real becasue your parents dont get up in the night and rap 5000000 presnts and me and my brothes caught him on tape well we saw the top of his hat!
2006-12-15 13:18:50 · answer #6 · answered by Kat 2 · 0⤊ 0⤋
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid.
I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big
sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even
dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that
day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always
told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot
easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I
knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told
her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she
snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going
around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your
coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second
world-famous cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town
that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through
it's doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those
days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who
needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked
out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but
never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and
crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.
For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that
ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the
kids at school, the people who went to my church. I was just about
thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with
bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's
grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because
he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote
a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew
that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he had no good coat. I fingered
the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a
coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real
warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for
someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten
dollars down.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."
The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed
a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a
bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and
ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her
Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.
Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me
over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and
forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept
noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave
me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I
took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on
his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes
and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to
open.
Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed the
thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby
Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about
Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa
was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.
2006-12-15 11:04:32 · answer #7 · answered by Slick 2 · 0⤊ 0⤋
The important thing is not what other people say or think, but what you think. This is the kind of question that everyone must answer for him or herself.
2006-12-13 05:44:05 · answer #8 · answered by amyanda2000 2 · 1⤊ 0⤋
Yes, of course he is real!
2006-12-13 05:41:09 · answer #9 · answered by AzOasis8 6 · 1⤊ 0⤋
He is as real as the Easter Bunny
2006-12-13 05:41:04 · answer #10 · answered by nalamf 2 · 0⤊ 2⤋
What ever makes you sleep at night
2006-12-13 05:49:58 · answer #11 · answered by angel24112004 2 · 1⤊ 0⤋