Santa. The beloved name
many of us grew up with, a man who generously brought everyone gifts in a
mysterious, magical, impossible way every Christmas Eve. A legend who consumed thousands of pounds of
cookies and cocoa and milk to fuel him through it. The representation of hope for millions.
Santa. The now
controversial idea. The story that we
will not perpetuate lest our children think we are liars. The mythical man that steals our credit for
getting Joey and Susie exactly what they wanted. The discriminatory jerk who doesn’t appear at
homes whose religions do not celebrate the holiday he appears on. The oblivious fool who doesn’t realize that
he is bigoted against those with less means.
Santa.
In this house, Santa is real. In this house, Santa is the embodiment of the
spirit of selfless giving without the need for credit. He is hope, magic, generosity, and love.
I don’t have little children. I have a 17 year old son and a husband. Santa fills all our stockings somehow every
year, and those of the pets, and no one says it’s anyone else. Santa buys things for children in need, with
my own child as his elf helper in picking out toys, and never gets to see their
happy faces when they open it. Santa
donates to causes that benefit a myriad of our population, without needing a “thank
you.” Santa is a spirit that is alive
and well here.
When my son was young, Santa brought all the toys. All of them.
Mom and dad gave underwear and pajamas, and still do. As the desire for toys stopped, the presents
lessened, but there are always stocking treats and small gifts, as long as you
believe and embrace the spirit. I guess that’s
why the adults and pets here get stuff too.
I’ve never had the “Oh no, my child found out there is not a
Santa!” moment. I’ve had the question if
he is real, with the answer of “If you believe, he is real.” There’s never been another doubt, and never a
mention that Santa doesn’t exist. There’s
not been a crisis that I’ve lied to my child, because I haven’t. I’ve just taught him the magic of giving.
The Santa at our house, he is open to anyone, of any religion
or financial situation that wants to participate. He doesn’t discriminate, he doesn’t try to
show anyone up, and he doesn’t choose to not exist because someone else may not
believe.
That’s why they have wine.
In some houses, Santa may prefer that over cocoa!
