believe he’s real. He’s a big deal if you’re a baby and your parents force you
to sit on his lap and take a picture even though you don’t want to cuddle a
stranger with a long scary beard. He’s a big deal if you have strong feelings
regarding lying to your kids to keep the Christmas magic alive. And he’s a
really big deal if you believe that Santa is a commercial, fake character whose
only existence is to take away the “reason for the season”.
great trouble to convince us of his existence; tracks in the snow, a letter
written in penmanship that was definitely neither of my parents’, having a
family friend dress up as Santa and narrowly escaping our house before any of
us could recognize him. It was exciting and magical.
so adorably tells us every year. We read and re-read the story of Jesus’ birth,
singing Christmas carols reminding us of God’s greatest gift sent to earth.
This story will never grow old.
was not real; I didn’t melt into a puddle of tears. I didn’t question my
parents’ morals for carrying on such a lie. I didn’t feel robbed, as I had
begun to have my own suspicions. Instead, I felt let in on a grown up secret,
one that I would now be a part of. My parents made it clear that I shouldn’t
ruin it for my younger siblings and I wouldn’t dream of it. I was now ‘in the
know’ and privy to who knows how many other wonderful secrets of Christmas.
presents. Some kids believe at Christmas those gifts come from Santa; my
daughter happens to be one of them. This excitement and fun of Santa bringing
presents on Christmas Eve doesn’t take away from celebrating that holy night so
long ago. We know that every good gift
and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, not
the North Pole. Soon enough she will be in on the secret just like her older
brothers. Until then, her Christmas is both holy and magical.
|Ayantu and Josie, watching and waiting. 2012.|