Many of you are familiar with the story of how I became an elf. I'd like to add another chapter to that story.

In 1994 Aubree was 8 years old. By that age, her belief in Santa as a good and decent person was secure. She understood well that what Santa stands for is far more important than anything he might ever "do" for us. By like many kids her age, she was haunted by doubts of how real Santa could be. After all, adults seemed to merely smile at the mention of Santa Claus. But kids -- real believers -- would get down right giddy. And this disparity in belief and passion for the Big Guy was one that caused her to question.

Until we saw the movie.

You see, we have a tradition in our home that began so innocently in our first Christmas together. It seemed that Aubree didn't remember a thing that Santa brought her but she raved all year long about the fun we had together as a new family that first Christmas.

She drew puzzled looks as she explained hanging the map of the world on the wall and jumping every time a new update from the North Pole arrived over the fax machine. Honestly, I thought it was a one time thing. But Aubree let it be known, in no uncertain terms, that Christmas from then on out meant hanging the map, reading the updates and anxiously awaiting Santa's arrival.

And that tradition continues to this day.

Unlike the updates you read here on My Merry Christmas the updates Elf Ernest sends us on Christmas Eve are more personal and more detailed. Beginning very early in the morning Elf Ernest tells us everything that is going on. There are a host of elf characters and several storylines to follow through out the day. And as he relates where Santa checks in from and what he experiences, Aubree marks Santa's progress on a world map on the wall with a long piece of string.

The stories vary. Once, Santa accidently knocked down a fence in Canada and sent in a repair crew that night direct from the North Pole. Elf Victor, Santa's Chief of the Reindeer, once explained how reindeer get their names. There was the time Santa stopped in Bethlehem to pray. And yet another time when he was pulled over for flying an unregistered vehicle and briefly jailed. Santa gets into a lot of scrapes over an 18-hour day of trekking around the globe.

In one memorable update from the North Pole, Ernest explained that Elf Bernard, the head elf in Santa's workshop, was contemplating retirement. This particular update got Aubree a little upset. Elf Bernard was the second elf she was introduced to and she was bothered by the idea that he would not be around any longer. Elf Bernard was a bit grumpy. He once wrote a movie review that made Aubree really laugh. And she greatly enjoyed the sense of urgency that Elf Bernard seemed to have about everything Christmas. He was an elf without polish. He was human.

In short, she loved Bernard. He was as real to her as Santa and Elf Ernest.

So, after a few Christmases of being updated about Ernest, Bernard and the whole merry crew at the North Pole, Aubree's age started to catch up with her. The updates were fun -- cute, even -- but girls her age were way beyond cynical when it came to the whole Santa thing. In fact, it was a decidely uncool thing to admit for an eight year old just beginning to feel the pressures of society as a girl that she believed in Santa Claus. Santa was taking a back seat to fashion, music and culture.

So, in a Saturday outing with Dad, it was a subdued Aubree who agreed to go see The Santa Clause. In fact, she was a little embarrassed to be going to a movie that at that time was viewed as strictly a little kid's movie.

The movie began and she was enchanted, as most were in seeing the film. But when the scenes transpired to the North Pole location she became highly curious. I watched her reactions carefully as she absorbed the details on the screen.

Then it happened.

When Tim Allen's character was introduced to Elf Bernard, head elf at the North Pole, Aubree shot straight up in her chair. Forgetting she was in public, she pointed to the screen and said to me out loud: "Is that him, Dad? That's Bernard? Omigosh!"

What could I do? I gave her my best shrug and "so, what?" look. But on the inside I couldn't believe how lucky I was. What were the odds that our Elf Bernard would make the big screen? How bizarre is that? That one scene totally sucked Aubree in and -- I swear -- I saw three years melt away from her face. The wonder, the awe, the belief that it was all true came back. The pressure she was under to abandon belief in Santa was relieved. Her staunch loyalty to the elves she knew at the North Pole had been vindicated. At least for a little while.

Naturally, my wife and I had some difficult discussions regarding all of this. How far should the old man be allowed to take this? Admittedly, this had become my Christmas gift, every year. To create the magic and reap the rewards of wide-eye kids was a great gift to a man who always wanted to be a father.

When that day finally came, I held my breath. But you know what? It wasn't bad at all. In fact, as I laid bare my confession, I found my daughter tapping me on the arm and saying "It's okay, Dad. I know. I understand. What's Ernest going to do this year?".

Kids are really amazing. I can say that now because there have been six others that we've been blessed with since Aubree. They all share a passion for our time together at Christmas. And Aubree's as much a participant in the fun as she was when she was only five years old. In fact, she's the first one at the map every Christmas Eve morning. She holds the little ones up to the map and explains how far away Santa is.

Even Abby knows now. But, like her older sister, she's remained a disciple of Santa. For a kid so ingeniously cynical and sarcastic I find it remarkable. But, then again, maybe I shouldn't. After all, what's really wrong with Santa Claus?

He began as a Holy man. A Bishop with an abiding love for children and a tender heart for the unfortunate. His mortal days were filled with service and giving. His Church revered him as a saint. For centuries his name was spoken only for good. In fact, it wasn't until the modern era -- when his name and image were transformed through accidental and well-meaning events -- that he was adopted and subsequently used by forces intent on profiting from his image.

Santa Claus is just a man in our home. But he's a good man. He's a man intent on being cheerful, in bringing joy and in sharing in common a belief in the Christ Child. Like any good neighbor, we welcome him in our home each season. And we track his whereabouts on the map.

And Elf Bernard never did retire, by the way. But that's another story.