The Magi brought gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh - odd gifts to give a newborn, but rife with symbolic meaning, for those three elements are related to the funeral and burial of corpses.

A long-standing tradition, dating back to the ancient Greeks, involved placing one gold coin on each eye of the dead, so that his or her soul would have the boat fare to cross the River Styx, that is, pass from the land of the living into the land of the dead.

Frankincense, the scent found in Catholic and Orthodox churches around the world, is a meditative aid, but is also burned in abundance around bodies before burial to cover any unpleasant odors.

Myrrh was an embalming ointment used until the 15th century to dress bodies before funerals. It is also known as "holy oil," and is still used in traditional Eastern Orthodox burial ceremonies. Myrrh, mixed with wine, also would be offered to Jesus before his crucifixion, as this was an intoxicant, which would have made him less susceptible to pain. The gifts of the Magi at Jesus' birth were all in anticipation of his death...

So, as you open your gifts this Christmas morning, think back to the very first Christmas presents. Aunt Flora's pink-and-brown knit tie may not be quite what you were hoping for, but it's a good deal cheerier than an embalming kit.

I still keep my faith in the ultimate kindness of human nature, but how can I, or anyone, believe in the Santa I knew as a child when today there is so much misery and suffering in the world?

If Santa lives today, he lives only in the childish joy of those he has made happy. How can he live in the crying hearts of those he has forsaken? Little children, such as I was, trust in Santa Claus as a miraculous munificence through which all things are made possible. There will be a tree, there will be loved ones about, gaiety and cherished toys that have been dreamt about for months.

Those whom Santa visits think of Christmas as a beautiful, sacred occasion which it should be — but today seldom is. But for every child tucked into bed Christmas night with his new toy, there are hundreds, no thousands, who huddle in ragged bed clothing sobbing in the night at a fate at best cruel.