I grew up in a family of 6 with a *huge* celebration at Christmas. It was very much about us being Christian and also about Santa. I never felt tricked or lied to. I think I figured out that my parents and older siblings were the Santas when I was about 7. I didn't feel duped. Each year I became more and more suspicious and would hear from other children about there not being a Santa. Eventually I was ready to let go of my own fantasy (yes, one that was encouraged by my family). I know that I was told point blank by friends and cousins that there wasn't a Santa, and yet in my mind I still chose to believe. For that reason I don't have a problem with others sharing their beliefs around Santa with my children. Santa for us isn't all wrapped up in whether you think he's independent of your parents or not. This reminds me of the movie _Prancer_, a real tear jerker, but a wonderful Christmas movie IMO. About a child who just needs to keep on believing.
I remember closely examining the hearth for ashes and the bite marks on the cookies, etc. It was like playing detective and great fun. My parents never played up the "you have to be good" bit, and, when I asked about Santa or what people had told me (that there wasn't a Santa), they would just say "Well, what do you think?". My older siblings got right into a 'Santa production' with the ashes on the hearth and the red fuzz on the bricks etc. I didn't tell my younger brother that there wasn't a Santa, and he didn't ask me. At 3 years younger, he eventually came up with who was Santa on his own, too.
I have very warm feelings around my memories of Christmas and Santa and that's why I have continued to share them with my family in the same way. My youngest brother chose to never celebrate with the Santa concept in his home. He's the only one. Unfortunately, I don't believe he has chosen this road because of the very valid personal philosophical convictions and oppositions that have been raised by other parents. I talked with him about this and he said he has great memories of staying awake until 2 am to get up and check out Santa's presents (they were the few unwrapped ones) and the building excitement pre-Christmas. He denies any negative feelings about the Santa concept.
Our family continued with the Christmas stocking 'from Santa' long after we all knew Santa was a myth. We would each fill the other stockings with gifts from "Santa". Opening that stocking and knowing full well that it came from my family still brought back a whole lot of that innocent magic from Christmas past.
So I'm really *big* on Christmas. We are in the process of decorating our house now. We are starting to play carols on the CD and in the car. We visited Santa in the mall until Brittany was old enough to recognize that those are 'helper Santas' and not the real thing or are feeling suspicious enough not to want to sit on 'some guy's knee'.
My mother had a terrible life during the depression. She came from a family of four children who were very poor and they often went without food. Her mother tried to induce a miscarriage because she didn't think they could feed another child or a pregnant mother. Mom described eating bread with old grease for many meals and the horrible pain of being really hungry and the worry of a sick sibling without medical help. Every year, mom would retell the story of going to sleep on Christmas Eve without hope of there being anything for Christmas, especially food. I don't think she thought of a "Santa" per se. Although she said that Coke was doing an advertisement with an early 'Santa' in it at that time. Anyhow, one very cold Christmas morning they woke to find a bag of food and toys in their front door. She could describe in exact detail those gifts, hers a doll with eyes that opened and closed, some 40 years later. To my mom that was some special 'Santa'. Maybe not the big guy with the red suit, but there was a special 'Santa' out there for her. It was with that spirit that Santa continued in our home; and, with my mom in mind, we give generously to Christmas charities.
Return to Cecilia's Christmas memory page.
© 1997 Cecilia Mitchell Miller, unless otherwise specified. All rights reserved.