I knew that last year would be our last year for a visit from Santa. My daughter was 12, and I suspected that she had things figured out. She had the good sense to keep it to herself, but she knew. This year, she has made no bones about it, she no longer believes in Santa. I knew it was coming, but it still makes me a little sad. Sure, it’s just part of growing up and I’m glad that she is maturing and starting to behave more like an adult. But they get to believe in the magic of Santa for such a short period of time! They’ve got their whole lives to be realistic, cynical adults, but only a few years to enjoy the wonder of Santa.
But, I do believe in Santa. She and I talked about it a little yesterday and I told her that I still believed. She gave me that sideways look that those of us with young teens know well, so I explained myself. Sure, there is no fat guy in a red suit flying around in a sleigh and sliding down chimneys. And yet, Santa is very real. Santa is the embodiment of the spirit of giving that is such an important part of Christmas. Santa is the fun of watching the eyes of younger kids sparkle when they talk about him or see him. He’s the joy of giving gifts which is even greater than receiving them, and helping those who need it.
I love this time of year. Yeah, it’s hectic and stressful and expensive, but it’s fun and fulfilling, too. That’s what we try to focus on. So, yes, I believe in Santa Claus. I hope she always does, too.
Merry Christmas, friends!