Abstract: This article explores the bittersweet journey of parenting as one reflects on the magic of childhood belief in Santa Claus, especially during the last holiday season with a “believer” in the house.
As I sat in the living room last weekend, I watched my children lounging on the couch, seemingly engaged in nothing. It struck me that this is the year when my youngest, the last of my children, continues to hold onto the magic of Santa. His innocence is palpable—filled with hope and a firm belief in all things festive. I suddenly realized that this could be the final year for such a belief.
My youngest son rushes out of bed every morning, eager to find his Elf, whom he is convinced is real. He hands me a letter addressed to Santa, meticulously crafted and adorned with stickers and glitter. Yet, amidst my overwhelming holiday preparations, I had almost overlooked the fact that I still have a believer in my home.
It’s a common plight for the last child; as a mother, I often find myself somewhat jaded by the time the youngest comes along. I’ve already experienced all of the first Christmases, the Santa photos, and the joy of assembling gifts. We’ve enjoyed cookie parties, holiday traditions, and countless evenings spent marveling at twinkling lights. By now, the excitement feels diminished, and I find myself thinking, “Do you want to shop for Dad? Here’s my Amazon login.”
However, this morning, I was jolted back to reality. My youngest pondered aloud, “I believe in Santa, but I’m not so sure about the reindeer anymore because of the whole flying thing.” In that moment, I realized the inevitable was approaching. I glanced in the rearview mirror, bracing for my older son’s response, expecting a typical older brother moment of disillusionment. Instead, he replied, “Of course they can fly, silly. Santa feeds them magic reindeer food that gives them the ability to fly.”
My youngest beamed, reassured by his brother’s words. I let out a sigh of relief. This year, instead of focusing on my long to-do lists, I will embrace the opportunity to create one last enchanting holiday season for my son. I’ll dig out the box of Christmas pajamas, craft a countdown chain, bake cookies for Santa, and indulge in the whimsical world of magic reindeer and toy-making elves.
Twelve months from now, my youngest may very well have outgrown this enchanting belief. But for now, we will immerse ourselves in the spirit of the season and allow ourselves to truly believe.
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In summary, this article reflects on the fleeting nature of childhood belief and the importance of cherishing these magical moments during the holiday season, especially with the last child.
Keyphrase: childhood belief in Santa
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