SPOILER ALERT! Do not read if you are less than 12 years old!
I don’t remember when I first learned that Santa Claus was not real. I think maybe it was when I was about 8 or 9 years old and I discovered my Suzie Homemaker oven hidden in my parents’ closet. I do remember when Erin came to the hard realization after she overheard her classmates talking about it. She had heard it from her school friends and kept the secret from us for two years.
Finally, Erin tearfully confided in writing that she was afraid Santa may not be real. When I talked with her, she said she didn’t want to say anything because if she did – then where would the Christmas presents come from? I said, “Baby, if Santa isn’t real where do you think the presents have been coming from all along?” She said, “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…” and everything was right in her world again.
So the Christmas spirit is alive and well in our house – even absent the jolly fat man. The one in red, anyway (we won’t talk about the other jolly fat many who lives here). Heh. Corey Trench also survived the trauma of learning Santa is not real,
“Mom, Santa’s real, isn’t he?” The dinner table got extremely quiet. My Mother had reassured me he was. “But the kids at school said he isn’t.” Ah yes, the very words no parent wants to hear, “But the kids at school said–.” Now, faced with the delicate task of potentially ruining my childhood, my parents decided to let me in on “the secret”.
I remember how they led me into another room.
Ahhhh… those closed-door meetings.
At our house, Santa still comes. Every Christmas morning, the decorative stockings my mom, dad, and I all hang up always have a little surprise something in them, even though we celebrate the family Christmas on Christmas Eve.