As it is Christmas Eve and I am actively not working (but making required appearance in office while I sip Coffee and Bailey's and eat homemade shortbreads at my desk while blogging) I was flipping through Facebook and saw "How You Were Rudely Told Santa Isn't Real". It inspired this piece because it's always a dilemma as parents how to eventually tell our kids the truth.
Firstly, it's not a lie. I mean it is... but I take it as an okay lie. Christmas is magical. No matter how old or young someone is, we all still look at the sky and secretly hope to see that glimmer of light sweep the sky and think it's the man in the red suit delivering toys to all. I understand not everyone can be so lucky... but there are an awful lot of generous people out there who buy toys for the less fortunate too. Toy Mountain, Adopt-a-family, food banks, churches and community associations, and even years ago when I was a waitress at Boston Pizza, we had a tree at work with names & ages of kids who needed something/anything; pull a tag, drop off at restaurant by the 23rd.
When I was 9, my sisters and I got Cabbage Patch Dolls from Santa. Only, this Santa didn't come down our chimney. He came to our door after church, while we were awake! And he was tall and not fat, but to this day my parents don't know who it was. We were on welfare that year as my parents both went back to school. I remember that being a very generous Christmas. We had so many presents. We even got Mr. Professors! (Does anyone remember those? "Leap-pad" learning circa 1986). But I do remember Mom and Dad telling us how generous people had been to help us have a nice Christmas. It was a special year; it was then and it always held strong in my heart too.
When I was 10, my mom took me away for a girl's weekend. She let me wear make-up and showed me how to apply it properly, and I got the talk about the birds & the bees (delivered by audio-cassette; I was the oldest! I was the guinea pig! I bet to do it over, she would cringe, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Mom- I swear, that isn't a jab. You did your best; I know it.) and we spent time being mother-daughter one last time before I turned into a hideous teenager. It was a perfect weekend. But I asked about Santa that year. If I remember correctly, we went on my 10-trip just after Christmas (because my birthday is right before). That year, we had gone out to one of the surrounding reserves and I found a pair of beaded earrings that I loved. I had just got my ears pierced for my 10th birthday too! On Christmas morning, there they were under the tree. I thought it very odd Santa would have known exactly to stop in at the store on the reserve for those exact ones; and I had been recognizing my parents' writing on the tags for years. They used to say they left out the paper and the tags out for Santa to save him time. I digress... I asked Mom about Santa. I think she asked me why I would ask. But I remember noting that I was afraid if I didn't know the truth, my kids someday wouldn't get presents because I'd be waiting for someone imaginary to bring them. She told me then about the magical feelings people get over Christmas and told me Santa lives in each one of us.
A couple of years ago, the whole family was at my parents' on Christmas evening, just cleaning up from dinner when the doorbell rang. My sisters and I and Mom were up to our elbows in dishwater and loading the dishwasher and putting food away. We just all looked at each other thinking it was very odd to have anyone come calling at that hour. My niece and I went to the door where we caught a glimpse of a white vest and dark, long hair under a santa-hat and then she vanished into the darkness, leaving a huge, red sack at the door. I looked for tail lights and my niece swore she saw the end of a santa-sled taking off down the road. Right away, my youngest sister Katrina was "the one who did this" (by the guys who were elsewhere in the house- blame the dark hair :) )... but she had been in the kitchen with us so that wasn't the case. Dad has always loved Christmas and the magic and mystery of Santa and to this day is like a little kid about his giving and receiving (which is the most endearing thing; it's hard NOT to get wrapped up in magic!) So, we naturally thought this was a Dad-thing to do. He profusely denies it. Katrina is his elf though... the gifts were so personal and exact though. Santa had made an appearance, and were in wont of nothing this time. We weren't in financial troubles, we were all gainfully employed, we were all already spoiled that year...so it remains a mystery.
I do know, what little I might have, somewhere there is someone out there needing/wanting something. I try to do one small present a year for someone. Sometimes it's an adult at a shelter who asked for a pair of mittens or a pair of warm socks. Sometimes it's a child who might not get a "Santa" present; last year, we brought a Christmas tree to someone who didn't have one. This year, broke as I was, I made cookies for someone who will be alone this Christmas. It was all I could do, but hopefully it made them feel like they aren't forgotten. That's Santa.
Don't forget to believe. The more you believe the more you have to share it with those around you. Don't grow up about Santa. He may not visit 3 billion kids in 24 hours, but the Santa Trackers and NORAD and letters to Santa and now what... can you Skype with Santa or something like that (my kids are way past that)? All these cool little things help our little kids believe in the magic. And that's important. It helps instill in them to keep the magic going as adults.
Merry Christmas to you and yours and may you spread joy and love and Santa-magic to everyone you meet.
Firstly, it's not a lie. I mean it is... but I take it as an okay lie. Christmas is magical. No matter how old or young someone is, we all still look at the sky and secretly hope to see that glimmer of light sweep the sky and think it's the man in the red suit delivering toys to all. I understand not everyone can be so lucky... but there are an awful lot of generous people out there who buy toys for the less fortunate too. Toy Mountain, Adopt-a-family, food banks, churches and community associations, and even years ago when I was a waitress at Boston Pizza, we had a tree at work with names & ages of kids who needed something/anything; pull a tag, drop off at restaurant by the 23rd.
When I was 9, my sisters and I got Cabbage Patch Dolls from Santa. Only, this Santa didn't come down our chimney. He came to our door after church, while we were awake! And he was tall and not fat, but to this day my parents don't know who it was. We were on welfare that year as my parents both went back to school. I remember that being a very generous Christmas. We had so many presents. We even got Mr. Professors! (Does anyone remember those? "Leap-pad" learning circa 1986). But I do remember Mom and Dad telling us how generous people had been to help us have a nice Christmas. It was a special year; it was then and it always held strong in my heart too.
When I was 10, my mom took me away for a girl's weekend. She let me wear make-up and showed me how to apply it properly, and I got the talk about the birds & the bees (delivered by audio-cassette; I was the oldest! I was the guinea pig! I bet to do it over, she would cringe, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Mom- I swear, that isn't a jab. You did your best; I know it.) and we spent time being mother-daughter one last time before I turned into a hideous teenager. It was a perfect weekend. But I asked about Santa that year. If I remember correctly, we went on my 10-trip just after Christmas (because my birthday is right before). That year, we had gone out to one of the surrounding reserves and I found a pair of beaded earrings that I loved. I had just got my ears pierced for my 10th birthday too! On Christmas morning, there they were under the tree. I thought it very odd Santa would have known exactly to stop in at the store on the reserve for those exact ones; and I had been recognizing my parents' writing on the tags for years. They used to say they left out the paper and the tags out for Santa to save him time. I digress... I asked Mom about Santa. I think she asked me why I would ask. But I remember noting that I was afraid if I didn't know the truth, my kids someday wouldn't get presents because I'd be waiting for someone imaginary to bring them. She told me then about the magical feelings people get over Christmas and told me Santa lives in each one of us.
A couple of years ago, the whole family was at my parents' on Christmas evening, just cleaning up from dinner when the doorbell rang. My sisters and I and Mom were up to our elbows in dishwater and loading the dishwasher and putting food away. We just all looked at each other thinking it was very odd to have anyone come calling at that hour. My niece and I went to the door where we caught a glimpse of a white vest and dark, long hair under a santa-hat and then she vanished into the darkness, leaving a huge, red sack at the door. I looked for tail lights and my niece swore she saw the end of a santa-sled taking off down the road. Right away, my youngest sister Katrina was "the one who did this" (by the guys who were elsewhere in the house- blame the dark hair :) )... but she had been in the kitchen with us so that wasn't the case. Dad has always loved Christmas and the magic and mystery of Santa and to this day is like a little kid about his giving and receiving (which is the most endearing thing; it's hard NOT to get wrapped up in magic!) So, we naturally thought this was a Dad-thing to do. He profusely denies it. Katrina is his elf though... the gifts were so personal and exact though. Santa had made an appearance, and were in wont of nothing this time. We weren't in financial troubles, we were all gainfully employed, we were all already spoiled that year...so it remains a mystery.
I do know, what little I might have, somewhere there is someone out there needing/wanting something. I try to do one small present a year for someone. Sometimes it's an adult at a shelter who asked for a pair of mittens or a pair of warm socks. Sometimes it's a child who might not get a "Santa" present; last year, we brought a Christmas tree to someone who didn't have one. This year, broke as I was, I made cookies for someone who will be alone this Christmas. It was all I could do, but hopefully it made them feel like they aren't forgotten. That's Santa.
Don't forget to believe. The more you believe the more you have to share it with those around you. Don't grow up about Santa. He may not visit 3 billion kids in 24 hours, but the Santa Trackers and NORAD and letters to Santa and now what... can you Skype with Santa or something like that (my kids are way past that)? All these cool little things help our little kids believe in the magic. And that's important. It helps instill in them to keep the magic going as adults.
Merry Christmas to you and yours and may you spread joy and love and Santa-magic to everyone you meet.
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