I don't have to tell you it's been a bumpy year. From bizarre elections to a slowing economy to shocking world events. So many things have broken. Lives. Careers. Trust.

I'm lucky because I didn't break this year—I just cracked. At first I thought I'd patch up the crack and go on as I did, using a concrete mix of denial and hope.

Then I noticed I could look through the crack and see something new inside. Something that could emerge, like a chick from an egg. I realized this by accident, the way so many discoveries are made. I did it by looking in the mirror.

Now, I don't look in the mirror often, which, according to my wife, explains why the little hair I have left sometimes looks as it does. It's not because I'm not vain—In my early thirties I tried lots of different things to keep from losing my hair and turning gray. Nothing worked—except to stop looking at myself. Then I could imagine I looked the way I felt.

But a few days ago a storm was raging outside, the electricity had gone off and we were plunged back into the 1700s with only candles. And it was in this new light that I saw what I saw in the mirror.

I saw Santa. He looked jolly, and pleasant... and a lot like me. As I stared at his face, I realized it was mine.

It wasn't such a bad face after all. It was like it had finally turned into what I felt. I didn't started out life as a generous person, but I have become one. I'd accepted the Santa inside me and he finally found his way to the surface through that crack.

As a child, I always liked Santa. I mean, what's not to like? He's a snappy dresser. He works great hours and has snazzy rig. Not to mention the fact that he gives good presents. I knew he wasn't "real," but I still wanted to believe in him.

And now I do. Not just in myself, but in everyone who helps other people. We've seen a lot of Santas this year, helping those in need. And while the Scrooges got more press, if you stop and think about it, all over the world we've seen a lot more Santas than Scrooges—a good sign for the future.

So accept the fact you're cracked—let your inner Santa out.

And to all, a good night.