And so it's begun.
The eldest Munchkin approached me earlier this week, in the midst of struggling to get a sweater that's long belonged in the 'donate' box over my head. We were late for school and I rushed the answer to a question I have been preparing for since my kids were born.
"Mom, is there really a Santa?"
oh god. my heart bottomed out somewhere around my colon. What a terrifying string of words. Christmas is far and away one of my favorite holidays. Not just for the presents, but for the lights, the baking, the family; the way everyone lights up with a soft inner glow every evening as we wrap presents and arrange ornaments.
And I botched the answer. I stuttered and stammered and asked if she really wanted to know? And then we had a sit down on the floor of my closet and talked about Santa. and I walked away feeling like I'd failed on a conversation I'd had in my head a million times.
This letter is my attempt to fix that.
Hello, Sweet girl:
I wanted to clear up a few things about our conversation the
other day.
You asked a very good question – and you are old enough to deserve a very good answer. I was just so surprised that I’m afraid I didn’t give you a very good answer.
Is Santa real?
Yes.
Am I the one that puts the presents under the tree and in
your stocking at Christmas?
Yes.
Let me explain: I have always
told you kids that I think it is important to believe in something bigger
than yourself. Santa is no exception.
Santa is bigger than any one person. And his magic has gone on longer than you
or I. Yes, Your dad and I and Pat and
Penny are responsible for your gifts on Christmas morning. Just like my parents
were responsible for my presents when I was your age, and their parents were
responsible for their presents when they were your age. (Yes, your grandparents
were all once your age too).
But Santa isn’t about presents. Christmas isn’t truly about
presents either. Christmas is about celebrating the birth of Jesus, and about
displaying your love and appreciation for others. And Santa is about teaching
people, especially children, to believe in something they can’t see or touch.
Santa was your first lesson in believing in something bigger than yourself.
Believing is a big job. And it’s a hard one, beautiful girl.
There are so many times in your life that I won’t be right there next to you,
and you’ll need to believe in yourself for both of us. You’ll need to trust and
believe in your friends and your family…you’ll need to put your faith in
someone outside of yourself. And that’s a hard thing to do, but you’ve had
practice. You’ll be all right.
So, now you know the whole truth.
I’m not Santa, but I’m on his team. And now? You are too.
Pay attention this year. Watch how your sister’s face lights
up when you’re crowding around the tree Christmas morning. Watch how my face lights up to see you all so
excited. How we all glow a little brighter when we turn the tree lights on
every evening. I didn’t even know it was possible when I was a kid, but
Christmas gets better the older you
get.
I’m so proud of you for asking hard questions. I want you to
keep asking hard questions. And I want you to keep accepting the answers with
the calm smile that you did the other day. Your heart already knew the answer.
Trust your heart. I do.
Love always,
Mom
