If I were Father Christmas

Evening Post, Volume CIV, Issue 147, 19 December 1927, Page 36

If I were Father Christmas

By ROBERT POWER

!§•""" •"—■"■—"—"—■■-~«"—-■«—••■ ■>—>d » ,«_., , a _ a ._>i_i>—n—!<—>•—»—ii—dd_ us—.,£ (Cojiyright.) "If I were a millionairo," was the who followed them would bo able to subject of a series of articles which g° tlleir ways free from tho menaco of I read some year, ago, articles in which apmen, celebrated in various walks of pre ciate what was won for them, and life, set forth what they thought they at what cost. Few young girls ap-

would do if they had a million pounds to their credit at the bank. Those were interesting articles, but, as a read them, I wondered whether any of these men, if they found themselves in possession of a million, would really behavo as they uaid they would. Of course, they all proposed to bo very generous, to bestow money just where it was most needed, and where tho greatest good would come of their gifts. But I thought, and still think, that a great change must eomo over a man when he finds himself entitlod to call himself a millionaire; for there are already in the world many millionaires, and none of them do as these moil would, have done.

MONEY AND HAPPINESS. Perhaps it is that the getting of a million involves such a narrowing of outlook, such a suppression of the more generous. impulses of tho heart, that, by tho time the million is made, the millionaire is bereft of those good intentions which might have been his when he first set out upon his wealthpursuing career. .

That is why I have always thought it poor fun to speculate on what I would do if I were a millionaire; for, somehow, despite the lavish generosity of some wealthy men, tho millionaire is regarded as being either a miser or ono who lavishes money only upon his personal comfort or upon ostentatious extravagances. But to picture oneself as Father Christmas—that is different! Father Christmas does not measure his benefactions in terms of money. Hg seeks simply to give happiness. Sometimes- his gift is only a sixpenny toy, but it is just the plaything some child has craved. The child may not know, and if he does, he does not care, that the toy cost but sixpence. That is a consideration of no importance. The factor that counts is that the gift is just the thing required to crown that child's happiness; monetary value matters nothing. Here, then, is the principle which guides those who maintain the myth of Father Christmas; here, then, is the principle upon which Father Christmas does his good deeds.

CHILDREN FIRST. In that spirit I would go my way, bestowing gifts upon mankind, if it were in my power to do so.. I would endeavour to give to each just that gift which might be necessary to happiness, though it might not always be the. thing which the receiver believed to bo necessary. First come the children. Of course, Father Christmas must carry a varied stock; his sack is not filled at a- massprpductiou warehouse, but a certain uniformity would be inevitable, if I were Father Christmas. On most of tho_ children I would bestow that gift which, apart from a God-fearing heart, is needed by nearly all of them in after-life. I would give them courage. Some need physical courage; some have that, but need moral courage. Most children need one or other. Only the favoured of the gods have both. I would give each just tho brand of courage necessary to ensuro that, in after life, ho or she would be a winner and not a whiner.

As a secondary gift, I would bestow the emotion of gratitude upon certain children, on those of the type we call "modern." I would give them tho power to see how great is the debt they owe to their parents. Some of these children are lacking in a sense of gratitude, and it saddens the parents' hearts, brings a cloud into tho home, and foreshadows a strong element of selfishness in the man or woman of tho future.

TOE YOUT!u.

The elder children, those who have crossed the junction of brook and river, and are now on the threshold of manhood and womanhood, these, too, would I endow.with a sense of gratitude. I would have them feel thankful that they were born when they were, and not a little earlier. For their own happiness, they should bo intensely thankful that they were not called upon to make the sacrifices that their elder brothers and sisters had to make in order to ensure that those

predate that, unlike the generation of women before them, they will not know the anguish of being ■widowed early in life, or of seeing the men to whom they have given their hearts blinded, crippled, or cut off in the very noontide of life. If these facts were realised, there would be less grumbling and discontent, less seeking after excitement, and a greater appreciation of the simple joys of life whose continuance has been made possible by the inestimable sacrifices of a generation which, even now, is but a little older than themselves—the generation that lost its youth. TO THE WOEBIED. To those whe are worried and full of apprehension concerning the future, I would give peace of mind. By presenting them with a record of their past fears and of past events,, arrayed side' by side, I would enable them to see how seldom in the past were their fears justified, and how often the future brought unexpected joys instead of unexpected troubles.

By the bedsides of those who regard themselves as soldiers of idealism, those who fight for great ideas which they believe to be right, I would leave a generous measure of tolerance. So often, people with the highest motives, people of great moral courage, stultify their power for good by being utterly intolerant of the views of others. By the gift I would they would bo made much happier than they imagine, because they would find that, sweetened by t-oleranco, their advocacy would be all the more effective. "An idea whose hour has come is stronger thaii armies," wrote Victor Hugo. But the hour does not arrive until the advocates of the idea have converted the majority to their way of thinking; and intolerance never yet made a convert. To the lonely I would give, not friends, for that would be encouraging a serious fault which usually exists in the friendless, but the power to make friends. Be their exteriors what they may, there is no doubt that the majority of people have kindly, friendly hearts. Those who do not feel the warm glow of human friendship, need to be enlightened, so that they may see that their isolation can easily bo cured by drawing their chairs up to the fire.

To tho lovers, need anything bo given? Surely, they have- all that is essential to happiness? Yes, but I would give them a specific to "fix" their love, something to fulfil the same purpose as the chemicals which fix a photograph so that time shall not fade it nor bright light obliterate tho images it bea;:s. My specific would be a mixture compounded of much patience and a liberal sense of humour. With this, lovers might maintain, throughout life, the love that is now their precious possession, and enable it to resist the ravages of time aDd the harsh glare of realities. TRY IT YOURSELF. Thus I would proceed, visiting the cottages, the long monotonous rows of town-dwellers' houses, the complacent suburban villas, and tho mansions of the well-to-do. All their inhabitants have needs, and some do not know what they need, save that it be a thincr that will make them happy. Why not play this game of Father Christmas for; yourself? -Why not enjoy the luxury of doing good? Here aresomo suggestions. If you are fortunate enough to have parents, give them news that will make them proud of you. If you have children, give them the best example of which you aro capable. If you have enemies, give them pardon. To your friends, give tho key to your heart To those who have fallen by the wayside, to the outcasts, give your hand and sympathetic understanding, thanking God the while that your own misdeeds have escaped similar punishment.

And when you have finished your round, perhaps there will be something left in the sack for yourself Probably it will be a packet marked "self-respect," and labelled with Shakespeare's potent words: "This above all, to thine own self be true' and it must follow as the night the day' thou ean'st not then be false to any man."