Today I am going to talk to you about Santa Claus. Santa Claus, or Father Christmas, is a jolly man with a red suit and a white beard. He brings children presents in the night before Christmas Day. He arrives on a sleigh pulled by reindeer. Normally, he enters the house by climbing down the chimney. The children leave stockings hanging at the end of their beds. Santa Claus fills the stockings with presents for the children to find when they wake up in the morning.
There are two sorts of children in the world. There are children who believe passionately in Santa Claus until they are teenagers. And there are children who know immediately that Santa Claus is a lie, invented by grown-ups for strange grown-up reasons that only grown-ups understand.
Nonetheless, I can tell you that there is a Santa Claus. I know that this is true because, well, last week I was Santa Claus. I visited a children's nursery, or kindergarden, as a special guest. I wore a red suit and a white beard. I left my sleigh and reindeer in a multi-storey car park nearby. I entered the nursery (but through the door, not the chimney). The children were having their Christmas party. Several of them screamed and hid in a corner when they saw me. The others shyly came to talk to me. I gave them presents from my sack.
One little boy — he was about two years old — had a present for me. It was a dummy. It was very old, very dirty and very chewed. Why did he give me his dummy? Well, when you are two years old, giving up your dummy is a bit like giving up smoking. It is difficult! The little boy gave his dummy to Santa Claus to prove to himself that he did not need his dummy any more.