Jasper County Democrat, Volume 19, Number 79, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 December 1916 — MEANEST MAN IN THE WORLD [ARTICLE]

MEANEST MAN IN THE WORLD

Is He Who Would Tell Children There Ts No Santa Claus. “The meanest man in the world" has become a stock phrase in newspaper offices to be used in connection with some story of a deed so little and mean that it stands alone. But this term is misapplied unless it is used in connection with the skeptic who bobs up at Christmas time to tell the little children "TherS is no Santa Claus.” This man is our nominee for the “meanest man in the world.” He would rob the kiddies of their happy childhood. He would tell them that St. Nicholas is a hoax; that the reindeer do not exist; that the old fellow doesn’t come down the chimney—and all that. Such a man must have never been a child. Such a man must have never known the love of a mother. Such a man must not know the love of little ones in his own home. ~" There should be no skepticism about the sweetest saint that ever visited this planet expressly to make children happy. Though written more than a generation ago, the testimony offered by the editor of the New York Sun has come to be regarded as a

classic. It was written in response to a query of a little girl. Dear Editor - I am 8 years old. Some of ray little friends’ say that 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, IT 5 West Ninety-fifth street.’’ Millions of copies, hundreds of millions of copies of the editor’s reply to that childi/iili letter have been printed each year since the great heart of lvim framed an answer. It runneth thus; Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. Tie exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to our life its highest beauty and joy. Alas, how dreary would he the world if there was 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 would have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

You may tear apart the baby’s Jrattle- and see what makes the noise inside, hut there is a veil covering the unseen world, which not the strongest, man, nor even the strength of nil the strongest men flint, ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance can put 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 Clans' Thank God, he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia; nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, lie will continue to make glad the hearts of childhood—Exc.