When I was little I asked Santa for a star. Santa, in his wisdom, said he would place one above the house for me. And there it was, Christmas night, in the Northeast.
Two or three years later, we were moving and I was sad for my star. We would be leaving it.
One night, in my new house I looked to the sky. In the Northwest, there was a star. My star. I thought I imagined it. But after several nights, it was still there. And it is right up there in the winter, every winter.
I know it's mine. I just know.
So that's why I believe in Santa Claus.