It's the most wonderful time of the year

Kids are very different from adults in many ways that are obvious, but one in particular is that they believe.  When they are young, they believe that the cartoon characters are real, that the monsters hide in the closets, and that they can fly.  They believe in fairy tales, and ghosts. They dream in color of magical horses, and being superman.  As they get older, they may begin to understand that SpongeBob is only an image on the TV, and stop trying to jump off the top bunk in hopes of soaring out the window.  However, they still believe in many things.  They believe it when someone tells them they are the greatest in the world, or the tallest.  They believe in themselves with a confidence that adults envy.  They believe they can do anything, and anything is possible.  It is because of their strong beliefs that make children more resilient, quicker to heal, and survive worse.  When they are sick, they believe in the magic of medicine and fairy dust in their IVs. 

One particular belief that comes around this time of year is that of Santa.  When my kids were babies, they stared up at the mall Santa with wide eyes. They believed me when I said it was the real deal, and could not wait to tell him all the things they wanted.  On Christmas Eve when I said I heard the sleigh bells coming they believed they did too as they ran for the beds to shut their eyes.  The believed they had to be good or they would have nothing under the tree come Christmas morning.   As they got a little older, they believed the iPod app that tracked Santa around the world, and begged to go home when it looked like he was getting near.  They would look to see if the cookies were eaten and the carrots chewed.  Their proof he existed, well presents of course. 

This year their belief has started to take a hit.  Like many children their age they have doubts whether the man in the red suit is real or not.  Some of their friends have declared it a hoax put on by the parents. Others have said they knew all along, and yet many like my three still want to believe.  As a parent the fact that they have these doubts is very saddening.  It marks the end of an innocence, an era of magic, and a childhood.

 I try hard to continue the charade even though my one daughter has been rolling her eyes at me.  I still move that darn elf every night (ok morning) in hopes to not tip them off to the truth. I still have them write lists to mail up to the North Pole, and they will never hear me utter the words Santa is not real.  However today as I was faced with another round of twenty questions about the old man I felt myself grasping at straws.  I paused to collect my thoughts and think of a new approach when it hit me, he is real.  Santa is real in all of us.  No matter our religious beliefs, the giving spirit is in everyone so that makes us all Santa in our own way.   Now I realized that I do still believe.  It is why I tear up at tree lightings, and Christmas shows.  I cannot help but smile and wave at Santa on the fire truck. Not being able to see something is not proof that it does not exist.  If you can feel it in your heart, it is real.

Therefore, this Christmas I will ignore the eye rolling and side step the tricky questions (like how come no one ever finds reindeer poop on their roof?). I will wave at the Santas, and tear up as I hear Oh Holy Night song by the choir.  I will take comfort in knowing that just because you grow up does not mean you have to stop believing.