“She's waiting for you,” my husband
said when I got home. It was long after bedtime, and she couldn't
sleep. “Something happened at school today, and she wants to talk
to you about it.”
She was heartbroken. The magic was
gone, and she was covered in the cinders of destroyed fairy dust.
And it was all Avalanche McBoyerson's
fault.
He's the one who just blurted it out in
fifth-period history class: “There is no Santa.”
“It's really not his fault,” she
sniffed, wiping her eyes and staring hard at me. It's not as if she
hadn't known something might be awry. How many times, within her
earshot, had I claimed an almost ninja-like shopping prowess for the
items she thought had come from the big man himself?
“It's just so hard being the only kid
in the fourth-grade who still believes in Santa.”
And she does … she still believes.
To prove it, she had come home after
school and written a detailed letter to Santa, which she slipped into
an envelope and left on my desk to be mailed.
It began thusly: “A boy in school I
know told me that you aren't real. But I know that's not true. You
are real.”
It was a paragraph of wishful thinking
that reminded me of the most famous holiday letter of all … from
8-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon to the editor of the New York Sun.
Cuddled up with my daughter as she
sought solace, I felt the fire of a thousand suns as I tried to
recall the beautiful sentiment expressed in “Yes, Virginia, there
is a Santa Claus” from memory.
But she didn't want the poetry. She
just wanted a straight answer to her question: Who puts the presents
under our tree? Is it a mythical being or do you do it?
The thing is, I don't want Ittybit to
leave childhood thinking the magic of Santa was all just a lie.
I don't want her to think his spirit
disappears the moment your mind can no longer expand enough to
believe that some roly-poly old elf could miraculously fit down a
chimney (that you might not even have) to leave your heart's
(manufacturer's retail value) desire under a Christmas tree.
Santa's shouldn't vanish. Santa should
evolve.
Santa isn't just a parent who pretends.
Santa is also a family that donates to Toys for Tots and local food
pantries.
Santa is the person who organizes a
fund drive for the family that just lost their home in a fire.
Santa is the person ahead of you in the
“14-Items or Fewer” line who lets you go first because you have
only a handful of things.
You never know, Santa could even be the
kid who chooses an ornament from the Tree of Needs and uses their own
money to buy a present for a kid less fortunate.
Looking into her eyes as I try and
express this idea, though, I wonder what the 10-year-old Virginia
thought of that Sun editorial.
I can only hope time will help show her
that an evolved Santa is even better than the original, you know,
because the Santa within each and every one of us can decide to
celebrate year-round.
2 comments:
That was spectacular. Thank you. It's just what I needed to read today.
KHM
this is how i've tried to handle the santa bit, since i love love love LOVEd (did i say loved?) the whole magic of santa, as a kid...i used to go all out when my oldest was little, until he was about 8 or 9 when i went back to college and budgetary concerns were quite real, values changed as well, and it wasn't the quantity under the tree, but the quality. as you say, santa evolved.
a couple of years later when awesome papa and i were having babies, he didn't want to do the whole santa thing, didn't want to "lie" to his children, and so on. so i gave up for a few years but it felt super bland and out of touch and since i'm not heralding the birth of the savior child, i seriously questioned the very meaning of the holiday and that's when it hit me: the spirit of santa, the spirit of giving and thanks and love. that's it...so i revamped a santa that wasn't over-emphasized or given undue credit. my middle boy has always been very matter-of-fact in announcing that santa isn't real but my youngest boy believes, at least a little bit, and they both totally believe in elves and fairies. that's good enough for me :)
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