Image Credit: © Steve Wilson | santa-clause | CC by 2.0
I adore Christmas. I love the lights and the decorations, the music and the good cheer. I get all nostalgic about “the reason for the season,” lapsed Catholic that I am, and I especially love the whole notion of Santa, particularly through the wide eyes of our four kiddos.
Really, it’s downright magical.
But with an eight year old in the house, I’ve been thinking lately about what I’m going to say the day he stares up at me and asks, in all his innocence, “Is Santa real?”
It’s a big question, and thank goodness for all those parents who have gone before me, the ones who have stuttered and bumbled and thought really, really fast before tripping over their explanations – and then blogging about them.
I’ve laughed and gasped and shaken my head over these stories, but I did stumble across a real gem. It’s so perfect that I pinned it to a board I have with Tooth Fairy printables (so cute!) and recipes for cloud dough and chore board DIYs (one day…).
The exact source of this link isn’t clear, so all I have is the pinned image of a lined sheet of paper. It reads like the second page of a two-page letter, but it’s okay, because the good stuff is right here:
“You’ll need to be able to believe in things you can’t measure or hold in your hand. Now you know the secret of how he gets down all those chimneys on Christmas Eve: he has help from all of the people whose hearts he has filled with joy. With full hearts, Mommy and Daddy take our turns helping Santa do a job that would otherwise be impossible. So no, we are not Santa. Santa is love and magic and hope and happiness. We are on his team, and now you are too.”
I mean, bravo.
I long ago decided that when they asked me, I wouldn’t lie to my kids about tooth fairies and Santa and Easter bunnies. When they ask serious, grown-up questions, they get serious answers.
Age appropriate, always, but honest.
And while it’s pretty easy to just stick to facts when you’re explaining how the baby is going to get out of your stomach, the magic of Santa is something else altogether.
That’s why I love that answer. I probably won’t write it in a letter, and I’m sure I won’t remember it verbatim. But the gist of it resonates with me, and when my son looks me in the eye and asks me for the truth about Santa, my answer will be a version of what that mother told her children.
And I think it will be good.
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