Transparent Tuesdays

Issue 142

You guys,

I was in 5th grade when I learned there was no Santa Claus. 

Middle school cafeteria. Lunch time. December. I was talking about Santa when my crush, the dreamy and confident Terry Atkinson, interrupted me.

“Wait, you still believe in Santa Claus?!” 

I had an older brother who made fun of me daily, so I was quick on my feet.

“No. I’m just saying there was a person named St. Nicholas who did exist at one point.” 

Smooth recovery. 

That night, I asked my mom if Santa Claus was real. She asked what I thought. I said I didn’t know and then asked her point blank, “Do you believe in Santa?” 

She gave me another non-answer and the disappointment sank in. 

I will always remember that year as the worst Christmas. 

On Christmas Eve I sat on my bed and looked out the window and for the first time, did not hope to see Santa on his sleigh with the reindeer. On Christmas morning I watched my older brother and older sister unwrap presents with the knowledge that they had already known for quite some time. I watched my younger sisters who still believed. I looked at the brand new bikes in our family room and instead of imagining Santa Claus unloading them from his pack the night before, I pictured my parents up late, bringing them inside from the shed. 

All of it made me sad. 

My Christmas spirit came back stronger each year until I was once again obsessed with my favorite holiday even without the big man flying through the sky on Christmas Eve. 

Now I have my own kids. How will I navigate Santa Claus?

Do I take the Kristen Bell approach? When her daughter was just 3 years old she asked if Santa Claus was real and Bell told her the truth.

I’m not sure I have that in me. 

Christmas isn’t really about Santa Claus, but he represents a lot of what makes Christmas special. He’s joy and generosity and kindness and laughter and delicious food and sweet treats and twinkling lights and magical movies, all wrapped up into one jolly old elf. 

I don’t want to lie to my kids when they ask if Santa Claus is real, but to say I don’t believe in Santa also feels wrong. Because I do. I believe in everything he represents. And every Christmas Eve, when I look up at the night’s sky and feel all the Christmas feels, I can’t help but wonder. 

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Until next week,

Charlie