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Father Christmas

by Silvia Hartmann

Father Christmas

Silvia writes: Do you remember a time when you still believed in Father Christmas?

When the idea of a being that could deliver gifts to all the children of the world in a single night was the truth? Do you remember when you stopped believing?

Do you remember when you found out that the adults were lying, that it was a huge conspiracy against the children, and did a part of you become very sad, and very cynical at time? If so, there might be something that can be done to restore the faith in magic.

Here is my story.

Father Christmas

A Project Sanctuary Story

I came across an aspect who had just worked out that the whole Father Christmas deal was a MASSIVE deception and conspiracy by the adult population in general, and my parents in particular, perpetrated on unknowing and terrified children.

My parents owned the village pub, and there was a big Christmas party for the children every year.

All the kids were herded together in the festival hall near the stage, and then Father Christmas would turn up and take each kid in turn and make them feel bad with something that you really didn't know HOW he could know that. This was a part of the freakout pattern, as will become revealed quite soon.

At any rate, I don't know how I became suspicious; it might have been my energy mind at work way back then already. Us kids we were ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED of the Father Christmas figure. Anyway, I followed FC after the thing was over like a private detective - and saw MY OWN FATHER getting undressed in a neighbours shed down the road!

I saw him take a bunch of pieces of paper from the pockets of the costume and I *KNEW* those were particular "bad habits" that the own parents had written down about each child so FC could use that against them to explain why they weren't getting the toys they'd wanted that year.

A formative experience, you could say.

I also, young as I was, never told them what I found out; there was significant, if bitter power in knowing their games and pretending to go along with it, pretending to be terrified, and all of that.

This memory turned up in the context of the "wish installation" and I decided to go and do something with that aspect.

I picked her up at the point where she is standing behind the door, watching FC transform back into Daddy and where a major part of "mystery" had just crashed with the force of a Boing 747.

It soon became apparent that talking to her would do no good at all; so I summoned a sleigh with two white horses, tucked me and her into the furs, and set course to the place you go when you follow the "Ice River".

"We are going to see the REAL Father Christmas," I said to her as we flew into the night sky.

In the lands of ice, and sparkling crystal light, amidst the white, indeed there you can see from a distance, coloured lights dancing, and calling your from the darkness.

As you get closer and closer, you see a most amazing building; it is a palace of sorts, but it is more than that, it is a hub of activity and brightness, of sheer delight in sound and visions, every colour a song, every song a story, every story a treasure.

We landed and walked towards this amazing building, and there were streaks of light all around us, movement and activity, and the little girl said in wonderment, "Are these the elves that make the toys?"

I looked again and it was true - these were the elves, but they didn't make wooden horses, or plastic dolls, they were making other things, richer things, things more abundant, things far more fantastic, things of magic, and enchantment.

I held hands with the little girl and we walked through the halls.

Some where distinct and a theme was at work; ultraviolet sparks forming pyramid shaped objects that could link up with others of their kind; others were just treasure troves of many shapes and colours, flowing, making maps and grids, creating beautiful sculptures that sang with wisdom, and with knowledge, and with joy - so much joy, it was quite hard to bear and I had to stop.

"What's the matter?" asked the little aspect. "What's wrong with you? Why are you crying? This is so brilliant, so amazing - how could you cry, and here, of all places?"

I looked down at her and into her sincere eyes, where the sparks of light from the workshops was reflected, a galaxy of multi-coloured stars and stories, and tried to find the words, or the emotions that will form themselves into the words you say.

Eventually I said, "I have lived such a long life and I never knew this place was here. I didn't believe in it, so I didn't seek it. I've missed so much. I have lost so much. All those years ..." at which point I really broke down, went on my knees and started to sob.

The little aspect carefully patted me on the shoulder and said sympathetically, "It's alright. You can ask Father Christmas to give you your years back. You can write it in your letter, your Christmas letter."

That got through to me and I although I was still crying and sniffling, I thought, yes, she's right. I can make a wish and ask for my years back. Why not? You can ask Father Christmas for anything ...

I got up and wiped my nose with my sleeve. The aspect noticed and giggled. I said, "Look, we're here. We should go and find Father Christmas, and tell him ourselves what we want. That way we can be sure no letters go astray, and also, my handwriting sucks."

The little girl nodded seriously at that. "Mine does, too," she said rather sadly.

I held out my hand for her to take, sniffed one more time, then smiled at her and said, "Let's go find Father Christmas."

The minute our hands clasped firmly, we were transported straight up in a fast rushing of white light and when it stopped, we were in a domed hall which was at the top of the building. Stars were whirling above and right in the center of the smooth white light floor, there was a *being* - a swirling, whirling being of white and it seemed to be the destination for all the colours and shapes that were being produced here. They were streaming into it from all directions, and the more were streaming into it, the brighter it became and the faster it seemed to become in and of itself.

"Wow," I said and the little aspect said at the same time with some authority, "Well that's not a man dressed up in a costume!"

"How do you talk to THAT?" I wondered out aloud, and the little aspect said, "I bet it doesn't even read letters!"

Just at that moment, an orange infused sphere whizzed by my nose and I knew how you do it.

Urgently I said to the girl, "We need to make a wish. We need to make something like those things, something out of light. Wait a minute. Let me try something."

I let go of her hand, took a deep breath and concentrated on my wish to "have my years back". A huge wave of energy moved up my body and for a moment got stuck in my throat, but relaxed more and then it came out of my mouth - not a word, or a sound really, more like sigh that took wing, and shaped itself into a fast flowing bird which headed straight towards the incredible white being in the center of the dome.

The bird shape had a long trail of something, like a veil; it entered into the Father Christmas existence, spun into it, the long trail spun into it too and then I nearly fell forward as all of it had gone, and had been received.

I felt really light headed and hugely relieved; and the little girl said, "How did you do that? How do I do that? I want to do that too!"

I took her by the shoulders so she faced Father Christmas. I told her, "Take a deep breath. What is your biggest wish, your greatest wish of all? Let it come up from your heart, and just open your mouth, and it will fly out."

I could feel the energy gathering in the little girl's body, and there was no resistance - she immediately opened her mouth and a bright star rushed forth, perfectly defined, immediately, diamond colour festival, and it joined the other things that were streaming towards Father Christmas.

I could feel her relaxing under my hands and against my legs and crouched down next to her, put an arm about her shoulder.

We both watched and said nothing; we watched as the white being in the center took in more and more streaming colours and shapes, and it got faster and faster; I had goosebumps because it seemed that the whole building was shaking and a transformation was about to occur - and then it did.

For one instance, the spinning shape formed into a perfect disk and it stopped. We held our breath - and then, the disc exploded in the most incredible starburst all at once, and all it had held was being released, and I remember thinking, that's how it's done, all over the world, one night, one moment, all the wishes are fulfilled and the gifts received ...

When I woke up, I was in the snow outside the shed where the fake Father Christmas was getting dressed, with the young aspect by my side.

I looked at her, and she looked at me, and I saw the many coloured stars in her eyes and I knew she saw them in mine. There was no need for further words; we hugged for a moment, and then she went back to the Christmas party and her life, I went back to mine.

Silvia Hartmann


  by Silvia Hartmann
"Deepest, heartfelt thanks to Silvia Hartmann and the powers that be for presenting Project Sanctuary and the whole paradigm that radiates around it - or perhaps from it. First time I have ever been able to honestly say β€œlife-altering transformational!" Laura Moberg

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