The Claus Conundrum

Christmas is, like most people, my favorite time of year. I love the cold, the anticipation of snow, the decorations, the music, the parties, the shopping, the wrapping, and of course being with my family and celebrating the birth of our Savior (even if He was probably born in April!). What does not thrill me about this season is Santa Claus. At least, this has been the case since I have had children.

Now, I know that most people immensely enjoy hiding presents under the tree Christmas morning, and look forward with great pleasure to the look on their kid's faces when they see all the gifts and the crumbs left behind by the elusive St. Nick. I too, LOVE giving my children their little hearts' desire Christmas morning. But, I don't like lying to them. That's what it feels like to me, anyway. Especially when you have a kid like Bronwyn. She is extremely curious and imaginative, but she's also a realist. Ever since the Christmas she was two she has been asking if Santa is "really real". Up until now we had managed to be pretty evasive. We've never emphasized him or really said anything one way or the other. I guess we sort of left it up to the world to tell her about Santa. Last year I did end up saying that he is real in your heart. That generously giving is a very real and good thing. But what happens when she asks the same thing about Jesus? "Mom, is Jesus really real? Isn't He just in my heart?"

Plus, on a selfish note, it took a lot of time and energy to shop for and put together that kitchen, that wagon, that dollhouse, etc. I'd like some friggin credit! Or at least a thank you!

On the other hand, Santa is fun, relatively harmless, and nearly impossible to avoid.

So, this year, she pinned me down. "Is Santa real?" "No, sweetie. He's not. He's just make believe." But then the kicker: "Please don't tell any of your friends at school. If they still believe in Santa then let them."

Well, yesterday in the car after I picked her up she started talking about how "every last one" of her friends all believe in Santa and one of the teachers at school said she even knows him personally and calls him on the phone. But like I said, the kid's a realist. She said, "Mrs. Blalock must just be calling someone who says he's Santa." Then she turned to me and said, "I wish I was just like everybody else. I wish you hadn't told me the secret."

Of course that just about broke my heart! But then I thought of how many times I must have said that same thing to God. Why do a I have to be different? I still don't really know the answer. I just know that we are "strangers in this land". That we who believe are "set apart". Now, I'm not saying that the kids who still believe in Santa aren't. It just hit me yesterday that this was of my firstborns first experiences in being not of this world. And it was hard. For both of us. Which will make the picture below extremely ironic, but darn cute! Can't I just learn from my mistakes??