It was December 24, 2014. A curious little Lin lay quietly on the living room sofa. The Christmas tree stood tall in the corner with its branches adorned with shimmering, faintly twinkling ornaments. The room was wrapped in a cozy dimness, the warm yellow hue of the lights casting dancing shadows on the walls.
Did Santa exist? Lin didn’t know. He couldn’t even quite make out the difference between his waking moments and his fantastical dreams. Yet next year, he would already be enough of a “grown-up” to begin primary school. Slowly but surely, he was starting to piece together small ideas about the vast complications of the scary world. Tonight, however, he didn’t think all too much. He was fixed on one problem: was Santa real?
Lin refused to close his eyes, because if he did so, he might miss the magical moment when Santa arrived. The storybooks always told that Santa came down the chimney, but Lin’s apartment didn’t have a chimney, and he wondered where Santa will come in through. The window? Or maybe the front door? Or maybe… just maybe, he’d appear out of thin air? The harsh snow outside fell steadily, and the world was blanketed in white. But he felt softened by the comforting warmth of – not a crackling fireplace – but the hum of the AC.
This year, Lin had stubbornly refused to tell his parents what he wanted for Christmas, because “for sure, Santa would read my mind and know what I wanted!” He had a few quarrels with his parents on whether Santa existed. “Santa would need a sleigh that can travel at the speed of light for him to reach every kid’s house in the world!” He proclaimed, yet his mom would only nod along, not offering any comments in return.
The urge to sleep proved to be irresistible, however, and soon, Lin was in a deep slumber. In his dreams, Santa came alive, and Lin was tearing through colorful wrapping paper and discovering treasures of pure delight.
There was nothing under the still-glowing Christmas tree. Santa didn’t come.
A few years passed. 2018.
When I was in Grade 4, my English teacher introduced our class to a song called When Christmas Comes to Town. She planned for us to rehearse it for a Christmas Day performance for our parents and teachers.
One of my classmates, a know-it-all type, told me the song was featured in the movie The Polar Express. Intrigued, I asked my parents to help me find the movie, and I watched it on Christmas Eve. The story followed a boy at his “critical age” – a time when he began doubting Santa’s existence and the magic of Christmas. One night, he was awakened by the loud arrival of an express train outside his house, which took him on an unforgettable adventure to the North Pole.
I was completely captivated by the movie. After it ended, I went straight to bed, lying there with the theme song playing endlessly in my mind. Not a single movie that I’ve ever watched captures the Christmas spirit as well as this one. If you have time, I strongly urge you to watch the movie right now, for that it’s an absolute masterpiece.
Each of the children in the movie learned a unique life lesson during their journey. Before departing and upon returning home, the conductor punched a set of letters on their tickets, which symbolizes their growth. While watching, I found that I was almost able to draw parallels between all the characters and me.
The hero girl received LEAD. It was a testament to her being a leader, a confident leader. Throughout the movie, she consistently took the lead in making important decisions. When the hero boy hesitated, often asking, “Are you sure?” She evolved from an initial silence to a simple “Yes,” and finally, to a resolute “Absolutely.” She gained the confidence of her life.
At that time, I was at the critical phase of developing my self-esteem, yet I was constantly gaslighted and bullied at school every day. I was riddled with doubts about my abilities, my worth, and almost everything else. I sought solace on the internet because I was simply unable to find any in real life. Confidence, that was what I needed the most.
Billy, the lonely boy, had DEPEND ON punched on his ticket, but when he flips it, it changes into RELY ON and COUNT ON. He came from a low-income family, and had little to count on for Christmas. In fact, “Christmas has just never worked out for me.” He was reluctant to get off the Polar Express when they arrived at the North Pole, fearing yet another disappointment. Yet, he was able to rely on his friends, the hero boy and hero girl, who guided him through a journey of rediscovery. He was able to count on a new friendship.
I struggled to find friends. It was a time when the girls at school were already forming their own cliques, and I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I had good grades, yet that didn’t really help in itself. At home, my feelings weren’t fully understood either. I was on good terms with people generally, yet I didn’t know what to do to connect.
Finally, the hero boy received BELIEVE on his ticket. He was at a critical age, full of questions and doubts. Did Santa really exist? Santa would need a sleigh that can travel at the speed of light for him to reach every kid’s house in the world! The Polar Express only deepened his skepticism. He encountered the ghostly Hobo, who insisted, “Seeing is believing.” But the boy had never seen Santa before. How could he believe?
He couldn’t believe it. Buried in the snow atop the train, he tried convincing himself it was all just a dream, yet there was no dream.
Seeing is believing, but sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can’t see.
– The Conductor
At the North Pole, while his friends could see Santa and hear the bells ringing, he could do neither. That was when the conductor’s words finally made sense. “I believe.” He murmured. “I believe.” He said, firmly. And then he was able to see. And then he was able to hear.
After what happened on Christmas 2014, I no longer believed. But the conductor’s words woke me up: Seeing is believing, but sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can’t see. Faith, hope, and love aren’t visible, but they shape who we are and how we experience life. Belief isn’t about seeing; rather, it’s about hope, about holding onto the invisible threads that connect us to something greater. It was about feeling, hoping, and daring to dream again.
Today is Christmas.
I had a delightful dinner with my high school friends last night. The food was delicious, the atmosphere lively, and the company even better. It was truly the highlight of my year.
After I got home, I watched The Polar Express again. It has become a tradition now – I watch it every Christmas Eve. Each viewing fills me with a different emotion, a new sense of warmth, not just from the movie itself, but from reflecting on how far I’ve come over the years.
The Boy: Thank you.
The Conductor: No, thank you. One thing about trains… it doesn’t matter where they’re going. What matters is deciding to get on.
One thing about trains… it doesn’t matter where they’re going. What matters is deciding to get on.
I have gotten on my train.
We were dreamers not so long ago, but one by one we all had to grow up.
(Dec 25, 2024)