When I was little I believed in Santa Claus. Unequivocally, undeniably, to me the big fat man in the red suit was real. Even though I lived in a one bedroom apartment with my mother and sister and had no chimney, I knew that Santa came up my fire escape with presents every Christmas. I believed this till I was nine years old, and while snooping around discovered my mothers hiding place where she hid our presents. Was I crushed? Not really, I still loved Christmas and still do to this day. And who was I kidding, no big fat man with presents was getting out of Harlem in the 80s without getting jacked. Why am I sharing this story? Because as a child I had something so precious, so strong, it could never be shaken....I had faith. Faith, which now that I am an adult sometimes gets shaken and tested. I am human and doubt creeps in and for a moment I forget that it's faith that sees us through. So I say to you the next time fear, or doubt creep in to your heart just remember the little girl waiting at her fire escape for Santa. Remember what she had because It's what keeps us strong,it's what keeps me strong, and in the end faith is all that we need.