When I was a child, the figure of Santa Claus was central to our family’s Christmas celebrations. My parents were deeply invested in creating a magical holiday experience, going to great lengths to ensure my siblings and I felt the enchantment of the season. This included a special visit from Santa himself.
Every year, after attending an early Christmas Eve service, my parents would prepare a light meal for us, dress us in fresh pajamas, and tuck us into bed—all before 8 p.m. The challenge of falling asleep was immense; we were brimming with excitement at the thought of Santa arriving with gifts in just a few hours. My mother would remind us that the sooner we drifted off, the sooner Santa would come. Somehow, we managed to sleep each year.
A few hours later, in the dead of night, she would gently wake us, urging us to hurry because Santa was on his way, reminding us to listen for the sound of reindeer on the roof (which, unbeknownst to us, was actually our dad tossing pebbles from the backyard). We could hear Santa’s jolly voice resonating from downstairs, wishing us a Merry Christmas.
With eyes barely open, we would shuffle down the stairs, clinging nervously to our mom. Santa would greet us by name, commend us for our good behavior, and hand out presents. After a brief interaction, he would leave us to unwrap our gifts, still in a state of wonder. We often didn’t realize that my dad was absent until he returned from his annual late-night trip to the convenience store for ice, which he somehow always forgot to stock up on.
At the age of eight, I encountered classmates who claimed Santa was not real. They proposed the ridiculous idea that our parents were the ones buying gifts. I felt it was necessary to consult my mom about this troubling news. Surely she would confirm that Santa was real; after all, we saw him every year. However, she gently explained that while Santa embodies the spirit of Christmas, the man in the red suit was just a tale. She asked me to keep this revelation secret, believing that each child should discover the truth at their own pace—a promise I upheld for many years.
Until recently, that is.
My youngest child, Jamie, is now ten, and I had been apprehensive about the moment he would officially stop believing. With his peers in fifth grade, I worried he might face ridicule for still holding onto the belief in Santa. I suspected he was more aware than he let on, but he didn’t seem in a rush to make any declarations.
In a recent conversation about the holiday, as I mentioned our tradition of seeing Santa each Christmas Eve (a role my father has lovingly played for 16 years since my eldest child first embraced the holiday spirit), I casually remarked that Santa represents the essence of the season, rather than being a real person from the North Pole.
“Oh, okay. I know that,” Jamie replied.
Relieved yet surprised, I reminded him to keep this knowledge to himself, especially from his younger cousins, who still believed.
“Mom, I know Santa is Grandpa,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Really?” I asked, astonished.
“Yes,” he confirmed, before shifting the conversation back to dinner plans.
It dawned on me then that for my children, Santa would always be real. They see him every Christmas Eve, just like I did. While he may not reside in the North Pole, he is their grandfather, who dresses up to create special memories. My mother was right; Santa embodies the spirit of giving, leaving a legacy of joy for future generations.
As we prepare for the holidays, it’s important to remember that the essence of Christmas is about sharing love and joy. If you’re looking for ways to boost your fertility, explore our other blog posts, including tips on supplements at Make a Mom, or check out at-home insemination kits for more information. For further insights into pregnancy and home insemination, the Cleveland Clinic’s podcast is an excellent resource.
In summary, the tradition of Santa in our family is a cherished experience that transcends mere belief. It represents the spirit of giving and the importance of family, ensuring that the magic of the season is preserved for generations to come.
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