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    What does it mean to believe in Santa?

    I’m feeling a little Grinchy this year, but I’m working through it.

    Since I’m still adamant about not telling the boys that Santa is someone that lives at the North Pole and drops off gifts one day a year, I’m confronted with the idea that I’m not sharing the “magic of the holiday” with them. And that my kids could “ruin the magic” for the kids that are told that story.

    And this is where I take pause, and wonder if this is true. I ask myself “What does it mean to believe in Santa?”

    Does “believing” mean to believe in someone who will deliver you a gift on Christmas day? Where the focus is on receiving. If so, then I’m glad to not believe in that and pass it on.

    Does “believing” mean to believe in someone who will gift to others, out of the goodness and willingness of their heart, regardless of who they are/what they do? Where the focus is giving & altruism. If so, I believe. I believe deeply, and it’s a belief I struggle each year on how to pass on to the kids.

    So then, what is the magic associated with Santa? The magic that gifts miraculously appear under a tree overnight?

    I think back on my childhood, and this time of year is magical to me? But you know what I remember with the most warmth in my heart? Sitting at the kitchen table at my mom’s apartment while my grandmother kneaded bread. She would break off some dough for me to knead my own. And baking it. And eating it. It never tastes as good as I imagined, but the time spent listening to my mom and grandma talk was magic. I remember the brown coat my grandfather would dawn on, and the beard he would fake out of cotton balls to pretend he was Santa Claus. I remember the dressed up suit my dad’s dad would wear to dinner. I remember the home-made popcorn-adorned survachki that my grandpa would create, and how much prettier I thought the store-bought, tinsel ones were. I remember the chill in the air; the crunch of snow under my feet and the tree ornaments stores adorned their windows with. I loved seeing the pretty displays of bakeries and flower-shops, as I rode the train.

    You know what I don’t remember? The gifts. Ok, I’m lying. There are two gifts that stand out in my mind: a set of ice-skates my parents gave me when I was 10 (mostly because I never in the world thought they would do something like that for me), and a set of mother of peal earrings (which I still have).

    The magic that I want to pass down to the boys are all the things I remember. Family. Traditions. The little things.

    The belief I want to pass down to the boys, is believing that they can help make someone’s day, week? month? a little happier. A little easier. A little more loved. The year that I hear them be excited over what they can gift to someone, vs. what they can get for themselves, is the year that I will know I’ve “made it” as a parent.

    One response to “What does it mean to believe in Santa?”

    1. I have always found your thoughts of Santa to be interesting – not that its good or bad but interesting.

      Do you know anyone that is Jewish? I don’t and I have often wondered how Jewish people explain Santa if Santa is supposed to give gifts to everyone else?

      Something to think about and may help you to incorporate your beliefs.

      Merry Christmas to you and yours! xoxo

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