My parents are pretty devout Christians, so when I was a kid they never tried to convince me that Christmas presents came from Santa Claus, because they felt that Santa Claus wasn't in the Bible (which I'm pretty sure is true, but honestly I haven't read the whole thing so for all I know he's mentioned in Leviticus somewhere) and that all the focus on Santa unfairly stole the Baby Jesus' thunder. They didn't try to tell me that my presents came from the Baby Jesus either, although I suppose that would have been a logical substitution. They just told me up front that my presents came from them.
So I saw Christmas specials and I guess I knew who Santa was supposed to be, but it didn't really click with me that a lot of my peers were convinced that the fat guy in the red suit was coming down their chimney on Christmas Eve FOR REAL and leaving presents beneath the tree. Which is why, one day over at my best friend Mike's house I nearly ruined Christmas.
We were about six years old . Mike was explaining something about one of the gifts that Santa had brought him, and I stopped him.
"Wait a minute. Santa? Santa gave you a present? What are you talking about?"
"Yeah, right. A Christmas present. From Santa."
"Santa's not real, Mike. Presents come from your Mom and Dad."
"He is too real! He signs his name on the card and everything."
"No he's not. It's your parents. Your parents probably just wrote 'Santa' on the card."
"Shut up! It's Santa! How can you not believe in Santa?!"
And so on. I had inadvertently sown the seeds of doubt in a True Believer. Once I saw how upset he was getting I backed off, and Mike went right on believing in Santa as far as I can tell. I didn't bring it up again because I think I realized that I had done something bad by breaking the news to him that his parents were lying about Santa Claus.
So obviously my killjoy impulse developed at an early age. In hindsight I feel pretty bad about trying to burst Mike's bubble, but I also can't help but be impressed at how resilient his faith was in the face of what were, let's admit it, pretty persuasive arguments against the existence of this Santa person. Flies around the world in a night, comes down the chimney even though Mike's house didn't have a fireplace, spies on everybody all the time to determine who gets presents, etc. Mike wasn't having any of it. As far as he was concerned Santa brought it, I opened it, that settles it. His belief was steadfast.
I'm thinking about this story anew as I prepare to head back to the Midwest for the holidays, which will be spent with my five nephews and nieces, four of whom still believe in Santa and all of whom go to church regularly. So even though I think it's kind of weird for parents to try to trick their kids into behaving with stories about old bearded grandfatherly type guys who watch them (even when they're sleeping) and mark them down as either "naughty" or "nice" depending on what they see, I am determined to not burst any more bubbles because A.) I like my nephews and nieces a great deal and therefore don't want to see them cry, and B.) one thing I do NOT need is to be the member of the family who makes children cry by telling them there's no such thing as Santa.
Anyway, I might not be blogging much while I'm there, so as my gift to all of you, I invite you to re-read this FlamingText Holiday Classic™, "Christmas with Krampus." Merry Happy Happiness!
Posted by flamingbanjo at December 23, 2005 07:23 PMi was taught (and i teach my son, but for different reasons) that although we don't believe in santa, other people do, & so it's decent to respect those beliefs and listen and keep our mouths shut.
here, it's the baby jesus, flying through the window ringing a bell on christmas eve.
Posted by: anne at December 24, 2005 03:16 PMI had to share: the scared of Santa gallery. How 'bout ruining Christmas by telling them Black Peter only wants a snowball fight, but Santa is going to eat their entrails?
Posted by: molly at January 5, 2006 08:52 AM