12/18/2025
As many of you know, I have been so beyond busy, it's comical. As such, I have not had time to publish the December issue of the Belhaven Bizarre. I am planning to print a Special Christmas edition, and another in January. Right now, I am doing the best I can to stay upright, I'm sure many of you know that feeling.
I do have a gentle reminder for you, as we approach Christmas next week. Since the Bizarre may not be in the streets in time for you to take this in prior to the holiday, I have decided to share December's Letter from Lady Ninja here to begin.
As always, so many thanks for your continued support.
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(December – Santa: the responsibility of the magic in the season)
It’s that time again, y’all. This time, I missed my usual date with breakfast and Spoon River, that time instead filled with scrubbing carpets and washing floors from an overnight with a sick dog... Oh, the ways in which we love.
I was admittedly a little grumpy this morning upon the discovery, still bleary-eyed from just 2.5 hours of sleep and a lot of the Bizarre left before me. But, I did the thing, and moaned and fussed a bit while I worked. The dogs, of course they feel the energy I put off. I look up to see them cowering close, afraid to have my harsh, frustrated tone hit them in those long, soft, velvet-weimy-ears. I sigh. I was looking forward to that date, and to my time with you all. I soften my tone, let the tension out of my stance and my shoulders drop with the release. I see those velvet ears perk up a little, eyes a little brighter, head still low. I hold a hand out, a soft velvet muzzle lands perfectly in the nook my hand creates as I naturally cup it. The muzzle naturally moves with my hand as I drop it to my side, the rest of what comes after the muzzle sliding into it's natural nook, just to the outside of my knee, leaning... softly at first, but then within a few seconds, I feel his tension release and the full weight of the relief is easily now mushed into my thigh, his body somehow wrapped around my leg now, my hand still cupped but now resting on his shoulder.
I look down. I think about breakfast. And scrubbing carpets. I shake my head. I let the angry go and continued on with my terribly busy and always unpredictable day. But, I left my dog feeling whole. It sounds so silly, I know. But, I know they feel too. I can see it in their very souls. The animals, they speak too, it's just that we listen in the wrong ways a lot of times, looking for the answers we want to see rather than the ones right before us. My dog didn't want to make a mess in the house, in fact, he punished himself enough in watching me clean, in hearing my frustration, and in feeling my energy. But, instead of leaving him sad and probably a bit afraid because I was angry, I left him today in his usual way - certainly a bit dismayed at my departure, but - a normal day, with his sisters, watchers and protectors of the house - a job they take very seriously.
And, that got me thinking. It's the time of year when the air gets sharp and sparkly, when a walk down Main Street smells like cinnamon and woodsmoke and someone’s famous casserole, and when every single little in town is secretly listening for sleigh bells… even the ones who will swear up and down that they “totally don’t believe in that stuff anymore.”
And that made me think about Santa. I've been thinking a lot about Santa this year. Not the Santa depicted on the Coke cans, not the one at the mall, not even the one who will be rolling into the Wilkinson Center at 6 p.m. sharp. I’ve been thinking about the Santa that lives in the hearts of children and in the magic of the season.
The magic of the season...
You know, I think that my favorite thing about the holidays, about Christmas or the gatherings or the festivities and celebrations --- the very best part of it to me is the creating of the magic. You see, I didn't have a lot of magic in my life as a child. My childhood was riddled with issues adults struggle to navigate and situations unfit for a child's presence. Yet, that was my reality. In my imagination, I would imagine what it might be like to have magic like I saw other children receiving. I was always envious, always. I never turned that envy into mean-ness, I never told the secrets of the magic to those children I saw receiving it, and truly believing in it. I was a quiet kid, and usually kept most things I knew or noticed to myself anyway. But, I appreciated those moments, and, I sort of got to experience their magic through watching them experience it - even if it was from a distance.
It was during those times of watching other children experience magic when I began to grow a real appreciation for just how that magic came to be - just how it was bestowed to these children. I discovered in my observations that the magic - it wasn't usually made by just one person. While a child might believe it was Santa, or an elf or simply Holiday Magic, I began to see that what it really was. It was all of the adults surrounding that child, each of them working together, like they were part of a secret play where they all knew the foundation and the key components, and they made sure that their actions and words and what they did aligned to make the magic real.
When I was little, there were years I remember looking around on Christmas morning and wondering, quietly, just why it was that Santa loved me and my sister less than he loved other kids...
I didn’t have the words for that yet, but I understood the math:
Some kids got piles of presents.
Some kids got one.
Some kids got new bikes and game systems.
Some kids got socks and a coloring book.
And when you’re small, you don’t see bank accounts and paychecks and power bills. You just see that Santa seems… uneven. That he shows up bigger in some houses than others. And if nobody explains that gently and kindly, a kid’s brain will fill in the gaps in the worst possible way.
“I must not be as good.”
“I must not be as special.”
“I must not be as loved.”
"I must not be deserving."
And that? That’s the part of Christmas I refuse to make peace with. Santa, Christmas, the Holiday Spirit and Season. These things - they are wrought with family, with friends, gifts and gatherings. Sometimes we're so focused on our busy schedules, on what is right before us, on all that we need to get through still, that we may forget a simple truth: Santa - is the feeling of love and magic; of joy and happiness. Of togetherness.
Somehow along the way it's as if we got so caught up in the Jones's and what THEY might have, and how THEY decorate this way or that way. About how the Smiths put on a grand holiday gathering each year, and - have you SEEN their house??! About how Bill and Mary down the way are getting new jet skis for their five children. It's as if we all got so distracted that we began to forget what the holiday season is all about. We lost just why we have the tradition of gifts and giving, of Santa and stockings on Christmas morning.
So this year, I want to offer you a slightly different way to think about Santa:
Santa is not a man in a suit.
Santa is a feeling we are all responsible for taking part in creating. Santa isn't about grand gifts and out-doing your friend's kid's gifts.
Santa shows up in the way we deck the halls and decorate the house with every last Christmas light you've owned for the last 27 years so that kids in backseats of cars ooohhh and ahhhhhh as their eyes twinkle with joy. And so that you can gloat to Bob next door that you've checked and double checked - not one single light out on all 29,552 bulbs is out... but you can see five from where you stand on his house...
Santa shows up in the way we tuck a little extra candy cane into the blessing boxes as we're out in town this weekend, and stop in to spend an extra $5 at Sarah's of Belhaven because you know she stocks those blessing boxes multiple times a week.
Santa shows up when a co-worker sneaks a toy into the front seat of a Dad's work truck, knowing things have been hard this year but Ben really would love to have a baseball glove so he can learn to play catch.
Santa shows up when a child receives a hand written response letter from him just days after they placed a note in a North Pole Mailbox in Belhaven.
Santa is not what we buy.
Santa is found in the magic we bestow and the love we let.
Here in Belhaven, we have a million and one ways in which we can make magic. From one end of our little town to the other, I've watched our citizens take part in an unscheduled leprechaun chase, I've watched ya'll nominate your neighbors and your friends, and even those who are not your friends but you recognize as someone who makes a difference, for our Hugs for Heroes piece. I've watched you show up in force to uplift those things and those people that you believe in - I sit here writing this at 1.30am because of YOU all. Glitter & Grace has a duplicator (albiet disassembled at this moment as we are getting parts in house to repair it to working order) because you all BOUGHT IT. I've seen you come into my shop, and known of you going into others' shops to donate food to our community after finding that food stamps and SNAP benefits are on hold... I've watched patrons go through the food at the food pantry that is out for people to take, and share and divide among each other, then stay, and wait, and offer half of their portion to EVERY person who comes and looks in that box. I've watched an elderly man who only had a can of beans he was taking, give it to a child who was dismayed at an empty box and leave empty handed, not skipping a beat in his step - yet, I know he may not have had dinner that evening.
We have the Toy Trains of Belhaven, where Mr. Don’s whisper carries farther than most shouts, and kids (and grown-ups) stand shoulder to shoulder with the same wide-eyed wonder. We have the Whistle Stop adventure sending folks all over town, discovering doorways they might never have walked through otherwise.
We have Santa and Santa's Workshop happening Saturday at the Festival of Trees where every single child who comes to shop for a gift for Mom and Dad or their caretaker will get to experience what it feels like to make that magic too - because they'll get to experience giving a gift to someone they love. I can think of no better way to show our children just how to love than to take an active part in making the magic of the holiday season and Santa Clause real for every single child, regardless of class or creed.
Perhaps among the children that you are able to influence, or, perhaps among the children that will visit Santa's Workshop to shop for Mom and Dad on Saturday, there will be a child who doesn't have to wish and long and worry over how to take part in the tradition that is Christmas this year, and who may perhaps be able to let their mind wonder to just how reindeer can fly, anyway. Maybe there will be one among them who once wondered if they were worthy, or if they could be special too. Perhaps one who has watched magic bestowed on others around them, and pondered why they don't get magic like that... But this year, or this time, they did.
If you ask me, that’s Santa at his very best. You know, those innocent years of childhood, they are so few, so fleeting. Yet, I've often wondered if they have a lasting influence on the magic we can let from us later in life. If there is even a small chance that there is some formula that includes how much magic a child feels and shows it's relativity to magic that human can give later in life --- I'd rather give and give and give!!! Besides, it's really hard to feel terrible after you make children smile and see their minds blown by magic... by the magic and the feeling of love that we all take part in making.
If you have more than you need this year—time, money, extra gifts in a closet, a little bit of energy—look around. There are so many ways to pour that extra into the cracks.
Drop an anonymous present with the ladies at Arts on the Pungo for Santa’s Workshop.
Slip a few dollars into the donation buckets that keep these events alive.
Offer to drive a neighbor’s kids to the parade.
Sponsor a child to participate in a library event.
Give someone a hug.
Show up to volunteer at an After-School Program event.
Every one of those small things says to a child, “You are seen. You are worthy. You matter here.”
And if you’re reading this and thinking, “I don’t have extra this year, I’m barely hanging on…” I see you too. You are not failing. You are not less-than. Some years, the most powerful magic we make is simply letting ourselves accept help without shame and calling that Grace. And, even beyond all of that - here's a little something I've learned along the way --- it doesn't take money or means, only time and love to make magic. You can make the most epic magic with nothing more than heart - and thought and a little bit of time. Little Foot and I made a lady's day not long ago when I sopped in the middle of the street, backed up, and he hopped out to bring her groceries up the stairs and into the house for her. We tooted and waved and went on our way, she was so grateful she cried as she waved goodbye.
Because here’s the secret the grown-ups sometimes forget:
Kids don’t actually care if the toy is name-brand.
They care if they feel chosen.
They care if they feel safe.
They care if the grown-ups around them are steady, kind, and show up.
That’s it. That’s the whole recipe.
So, as we head into this wild weekend of parades and trees and Grinches and Santas and raffles and yoga and cookies and crab-pot Christmas trees, I want to invite you into one simple intention:
Let’s make sure that every child in Belhaven feels like Santa didn't 'pick' the Joneses or the Smiths over them and their family.
Not just in the presents.
In the smiles.
In the eye contact.
In the “I’m so glad you’re here.”
In the “Look at this beautiful thing you made.”
In the “Come, now it's YOUR turn!”
We are a tiny town with a ridiculous amount of magic per capita. We’ve got ladies turning impossible into Tuesday afternoons and heroes who can somehow save the day with the sending of a text, and then shoot themselves in the hand with a nail gun in the same day (...how do you even DO that??!!). Yes, we have our problems, like every little place does. But, despite any of that noise, we show up, we ignore all that sound and drown it out with the symphoy of our own carols... because we have decided to take part in creating the magic.
And somehow, by some wild combination of Grace and grit, it works.
So here’s my quietly loud Christmas wish for us this year:
Let us remember Santa is not a stranger in a red suit tearing up our rooves with hooves and breaking in through our chammies (though, he may well visit).
Santa is the way in which choose to love each other, out loud. He's found in the Spirit of that true Belhaven Magic that we bestow through how we live every single day and how we take the time to be present and engaged with our children and each other.
He's found in letting parents and family take credit for those big, expensive, grand gifts... if for no other reason than Santa might not be able to give those things at the houses down your street. And that influence, the responsibility of understanding that you too have a part in the Magic Santa brings to every child in our reign, not just those under your roof, is something easily forgotten... unless, well - unless you have experienced some of what I speak of.
Let’s own that responsibility - for our kids.
Let’s be that kind of thoughtful, for one another. We not only contribute to the making of the Magic for the children, but we help carry the burden of those parents who are not as fortunate as we are when we can take part in being mindful of how our influence can spill beyond the realm of our physically owned property, and of our living rooms on Christmas morning.
And if the world wants to know how on earth Belhaven keeps pulling off this much magic with this few people?
Well.
We’ll just smile, look East toward the sunrise, and tell them:
“Around here, we don’t wait for Santa to show up to make Magic... We ARE the Magic, he's just the star we all uphold atop our crab-pot tree.”
And with that, let us start a whole New Year, amidst all that Magic we have to give.
— Lady Ninja
