Finding out that there isn't a Santa Claus is like losing one's virginity.
It's a sad reality when a child finds out that the jolly man in the red suit with eight tiny reindeer really doesn't exist. And then for the child to realize that his parents, brothers and sisters and grandparents lied all those years. And there's really no explanation for perpetuating the myth that Santa Claus is real.
I found out in third grade. Before class started three boys were talking about what they wanted for Christmas. I listened to them talking for awhile, because I was the horribly shy kid. I enthusiastically chimed in saying that I had written a letter to Santa. Before I could tell them what I asked for, one boy said-and I'll never forget it-"You're kidding, you still believe in Santa Claus?" All three of these kids laughed at this.
My face was completely red with embarrasment. I wasn't going to let them get the better of me, so I stubbornly said, "Why what's wrong with that?" Leaning over the cute boy said, "There's no such thing as Santa." I sat there with my pencils in midair. All I could say was, "What?" One of the other kids said, "Don't tell me you still believe in Santa?" And then they all laughed again.
I was so shocked I couldn't concentrate for the rest of the day. I ran home from school still believing in Santa Claus. I ran into the kitchen where my Mom was starting dinner, and I asked, "Mom is Santa Claus real?" She looked at me and asked, "Who told you that?" I told her what happened at school.That's when she came over to me, bent down and said, "There is no such thing as Santa Claus."
I blurted out, "You're a liar." I ran up to my bedroom, and threw myself on the bed and cried.My older sister came into the bedroom. She asked, "What's your problem?" I told her that everyone was lying about there being a Santa Claus. She thought this was hilarious, and laughed away. She told me there was no Santa Claus and said,"Get over it." She left the room. My Mom came upstairs and explained to me that there is no Santa Claus. I asked a lot of questions. My mom said, "How could he fit through the chimney anyways?" I asked as I wiped away my tears, "Then who ate the cookies?" She said my father ate them, and that he was just like Santa because he had a great big belly. We both laughed.
When it came time to perpetuate the myth of Santa Claus again for our children, I told my husband that I wouldn't lie to our children. Then they wouldn't have to go through what we went through as kids. This is one of the many reasons I married this man. He said it's what you believe inside." The spirit of Christmas is what you have to give to others." And then he told me that he loved me, and we could believe in Christmas together. And then he said that we weren't lying to the kids we were making Christmas come alive for them.
I told him "You explain to them when they ask if Santa is real or not."
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