One year when they began to suspect we were doubting the possibility of Santa they staged a photo of my Mom and Santa. They they took a plastic candy cane cup and lined it with white paper (making it look like it was a glass of milk). They hung the cup like an ornament from the tree so it appeared to be floating in mid air. My Mom then posed next to the floating cup in front of the Christmas tree and my Dad took some pictures. Mission success! We couldn't argue with the photo proof and had no other way to explain a floating cup.
Later we were finally getting to the point where we could manage to stay up all night. And what better night to test that wonderful new ability then Christmas Eve. So we settled in the hall upstairs and watched down the stairs at the tree. A few hours went by and I fell asleep. Meg was more successful and managed to stay up all night until my parents came yelling in to the living room telling us to get up right now and come down stairs. They said we were going out to get breakfast and we had really done it. Santa Claus wasn't coming there would be no gifts under the tree. Maybe if we were lucky Santa Claus would come back while we were at breakfast. Well I spent the car ride and the breakfast literally praying to Santa Claus to bring Meg's presents because it was my idea and she only stayed up all night because I wanted too. Apparently Meg spent the whole car ride and breakfast thinking Santa Claus should bring my presents since she after all was able to stay awake and I had gone to sleep. We got home to find all our presents neatly wrapped and under the tree. Magic!
Eventually one day when talking with my Mom we told her we obviously no longer believed in Santa Claus. She said she knew but my Dad would be sad.
However it wasn't true that we didn't believe in Santa Claus. Sure we no longer believed in the magical man that flew around the world at night popping down chimney's and leaving presents. But we believed in the love of giving that Santa Claus embodied. We believed in the expression of love and good will to all. So we didn't believe in the person but we believed in the spirit. Why did my parents fight so hard to keep us believing in Santa Claus? Their Christmas could have been a lot cheaper if when we first showed doubts they acknowledged the story and moved on. But there was a sense of magic that they didn't want to give up yet. And what that taught Meg and I was the joy of giving. Because when we were little we certainly knew about the joy of receiving. That came easy. But when we look back now we can appreciate the work and sacrifice our parents did all to see us happy. And that is the point of Santa Claus when you become an adult.
The children all snug in their beds with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads are eagerly anticipating the wonderful gifts. The parents are eagerly anticipating the joy of their children when they receive the gifts. And surely that is the spirit of Santa Claus. I remember the joy of seeing presents under the Christmas tree: some for Meghan, some for me, and some labelled for both to share. I remember sitting in the living room surrounded by ripped open wrapping paper and toys and books and being so incredibly happy. Now as an adult I want to make other people feel that way. So now when I think of Christmas I remember the joy I felt receiving and I look forward to the joy I will feel giving, watching others receive. When I get presents for Meg or my Mom or other family members and friends it is with the great anticipation of how happy they will be when they get these gifts. How will they use them, play with them, read them, or enjoy them? I was very excited the first time I bought gifts for family and friends with my own money (instead of just signing my name to a gift my parents had bought) because it was my own gift. I find the joy in giving, I like to give, and I wish I could give more.
Christmas is a time of celebration of love, life, family, and friends. And so raise a glass and toast the spirit of Christmas.
Merry Christmas!
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