Before Walt Disney made him into a character, the phrase Jiminy Cricket was used as an exclamation of surprise. Of course I didn’t know it at the time, but I felt it — every time he sang us into the school movie, “I’m no fool…” he warbled, and we all, seated anxiously at our desks awaiting movie day, exclaimed under breath, “Jiminy Crickit!”

We were all hovering in uncertainty and hope in Mrs. Bergstrom’s first grade class. The snow had begun to pile up outside. Just days before Christmas vacation. Gerald Reed, the tallest boy in class, pulled down the long black shades. The movie monitor, an elected position, wheeled in the projector as we fidgeted in our seats. The click of the reel began. Jiminy Crickit sang us in, and the movie about the real Santa Claus, the true Saint Nicholas, began. A living Santa Claus, giving gifts. So he was real! All doubts instilled by older siblings and the high ranking fifth graders of Washington elementary were gone. Santa Claus did exist. Other than learning how to spell, this may have been the greatest gift Mrs. Bergstrom ever gave us — this one more year of believing.

As we drove the streets of the city last night, the lights were magnificent. One block outlit the other. Nothing but shiny hope. “Jiminy Crickit!!!” I said as we made our ways through the illumination.

Everyone in the house is asleep. Presents are unopened, but for one… I give myself the gift, once again — one more year of believing.