One
of the many quandaries a parent is faced with, is whether or not to
bring Santa Claus into the holiday tradition. There are many reasons
for not wanting to do so:
- Most people view Santa as exclusive to the Christian religion.
- It is believed that Santa Claus has nothing to do with the true meaning of Christmas, or that he is incompatible with the Christian values they hold.
- Santa is the embodiment of the commercialism and materialistic values so prevalent in our society.
- It is perceived as the Biggest Lie ever told children by their parents (right up there with the assurance that going to the dentist is “fun”)
Having
grown up with Santa, I will always treasure the sense of magic and
wonder bestowed upon me as a child. There is nothing that compares
with childhood recollections of the Santa experience.
Discovering
the truth when the time comes, can be painful. Yet those who want to
perpetuate the notion of the bearded man in red for as long as
possible, are willing to go to certain lengths in order to maintain
the deception.
My
children were raised with a very strong Santa presence.
We
told the boys that they could ask Santa for one thing (“a purple
koosh ball”, “a nutcracker”, “cow bell”, “just a candy
cane- I have lots of toys already...”).
They
would write letters to leave with cookies and milk (and carrots!) on
the mantle, and come down in the morning to find crumbs and carrot
top on the letter Santa had left for them. Of course, the handwriting
was disguised.
We
were involved in a Project Christmas of sorts, and as the wrapping
was being done by several people at our home one year, the
preschoolers were enlisted as “Santa's elves”.
Several
years later, we saw Santa on the street right after he had run out of
candy canes; my youngest and I decided to be “elves” and
replenish his supply. The eldest, on the verge of disbelief, was
shocked when Santa told the boys that he remembered the time when
their big brother was one of his elves.
When
I was a little girl, my older brother and sister wanted me to remain
oblivious to the facts for another year, and together schemed to
awaken me to the sounds of reindeer hooves and sleigh bells. To this
day I am able to vividly recall that magical moment. Hence the
perpetuation of my deceitful actions.
When
asked by my children, I told them that I believed in Santa, for one
of the perks of having kids is seeing the world once again through
the eyes of a child, and the magic had indeed returned. I recounted
the time I was a little girl and woke up in the middle of the night
because I heard Santa on the roof!
A
year or two later, I confessed I wasn't really sure about the actual
Santa Claus, but that I think Santa Claus is that feeling we have
when we come down the stairs to lit tree and stockings on Christmas
morning and are so excited to give each other the gifts we have for
them.
As
children become older, eventually the need to know the truth becomes
stronger than the desire to believe, and we are faced with the
ultimate “yes” or “no” question: “Are you Santa Claus?”
“No, I'm your mother.” “Do you fill our stockings and write
from Santa on the presents?” “Well...”
My
son was rather devastated by the truth, yet insisted on letting the
others maintain their delusion, and became an active participant in
making that happen. The others never asked. We learned later that
they had discovered the packaging to their gifts in the attic.
As
for myself, I was in third grade when I recognized my mother's
handwriting. I don't remember feeling particularly lied to, but I was
disappointed; and Christmas lost that magical glow. Was it worth it?
Absolutely.- RDW (12-9-10)
