Author's Note: This is not meant to be offensive, only humorous. If you are a religious person and would become offended by material that pokes fun at your religion, DO NOT READ THIS. Please do not flame my writing due to any religious controversy it may cause with you. I am entitled to my opinions - be them right, wrong, or insane - and no one is forcing you to read this. For those of you who have decided to read this, it is intended to be humorous and hopefully it will be. When the word 'you' is used, it is actually referring to me, the author, and not you, the reader. Also, my 'truth' is my own - I am not saying that it should be yours as well. These are merely my thoughts and opinions. I would appreciate it if you reviewed my story when you finish. Thank you.

The Truth About God And Santa Claus

To me, believing in God is sort of like believing in Santa Claus.
At first, you believe because that's what your parents tell you -
he knows if you've been naughty or nice. But after a while, you
start wondering why you never actually see the guy. Sure, Santa
always comes and God is everywhere, but are they both so stealthy?
I mean, come on, one's a fat man in a red and white suit, I'd
think it'd be pretty hard to sneak around like that, you know?
But still, people just tell you that he's magic or something like
that, so you just take their word for it, though you still have
your doubts. Then, there are those times when you've been extra
good, and you ask for something really nice to happen to you or
be given to you, and what do you get? Either socks or absolutely
nothing, depending on the guy you ask. So that ticks you off a
little, so next time you tell the guy that he has some flaws in
his system that he needs to work out. Then something really good
happens to one of the people you despise (or something really bad
happens to someone you love) and that makes you ask, "What the hell
is up with that??" Neither guy particularly cares for the swearing,
so you end up apologizing for that, but you're still pretty pissed.
Sometimes you figure, "Hey, he's been doing this for a couple
hundred/thousand/million years, he's entitled to a few mistakes..."
but then you argue, "Hey, he's been doing this for a couple
hundred/thousand/million years, you'd think he'd have it down
pretty well by now! I mean, if he thinks he's good enough to judge
right from wrong, shouldn't he be rewarding the good and punishing
the bad? Maybe his mind is going - after all, he is pretty darn old...
not like that's an excuse! Maybe he should retire, let his son take
over or whatever..." So now you figure there's no real use in asking
the guy for anything any more, you'd rather him give you nothing
than give you the wrong thing or something you don't want. So then
you think you're all set, you're in control of the situation, and
then something happens and you say, "This is not what I asked for."
But your parents are like, "But it's so nice! And you can't give it back,
he gave it to you!" And they smile and play along with the hoax
they've been supporting for years. And you're just like, "Damn it."
So after that, every time you get a 'present' from 'him', you just
kind of glare at it and roll your eyes. And so it begins that you
start thinking, "If I do everything right and try to be nice to
everyone and try to do everything that he expects from a person,
why does he keep giving me this crap that I don't want?" So you
start asking questions - asking him (he never responds), asking
your parents (they just say he works in mysterious ways), asking
your friends (they either shrug or snicker), asking the priest or
other church-y people (they just tell you the story of Chritmas
and other stuff like that that you've heard a hundred times before).
So now you're like, "Wow, that got me absolutely nowhere." And
now you're extremely doubtful. Everyone keeps saying "He's there,
he's there!" but you've never seen him, he never seems to answer
your requests, he never seems to like you very much even when you
try to do everything right, and no one can give you suitable answers
to any of your questions about him. So it leads you to seriously
doubt his existence. So you stop relying on him, and you become
less weary of if your actions would meet his standards. And so it
goes until one day you're standing there and you realize,
"He's not real, is he?" Whether someone tells you this, or you
find out on your own accord, the revelation comes to you, and
you're like, "I can't believe I actually fell for something like that!
Kids will believe anything!" And then you move on with your life
and laugh whenever something reminds you of your childish beliefs.
Others still try to tell you that it's real, it's all real, and
so you play along, to make them happy, but secretly you know the
truth - he doesn't exist, and he never did. Others, of course,
disagree with you and say that they've seen him, and you learn
that it's best not to try to tell everyone the truth about it,
because most of them tend to stubbornly believe and only get mad
at you if you try to disprove that belief. And so it goes - you,
as one of the few nonbelievers, versus everyone else. You get used
to it, you live your life and try not to get into too many
confrontations about it. And so you live, knowing the truth,
Christmases going by, no longer having the same meaning. And so
it happens that you learn the truth about God and/or Santa Claus.