We all are children
at Christmastime,
or else we're never
children at all.
Substitute believers
if you choose;
it doesn't matter
which word you use.
One lesson taught
by Santa Claus
is that surely
there is no god,
or that God is
somebody else
dressed up like
Tom Nast's elf -
or maybe yourself.
So hang your stockings
on that night;
hang them high
and fill them tight.
What you must prove
to Santa's kids
is that God is love,
if God is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem