You Mean, Santa Claus Isn’t Real?
By now, you’ve probably received holiday greetings from your dentist, insurance provider, health club, AARP, tax preparer (usually with a worksheet to prepare to file your tax return), online merchants, and a host of others.
Well, here’s one more wish for a beautiful holiday season. I hope Hanukkah was a blessing to you this year. If you celebrate Christmas, I pray it will be a joyous time for you and those you love. If you’re looking forward to Kwanzaa, may it be splendid in all possible ways. I’m sure there are other celebrations this time of year I probably forgot about, but I hope it is all you long for.
In our Life Writers membership the other night, we discussed several narrative letters to Santa Claus in Rick Bragg’s Where I Come From. The letters were so funny in his attempts to receive a Camaro, “pearl white, convertible, V-8, with saddle-tan leather interior” from the jolly guy himself.
The topic of believing in Santa Claus came up, transporting me back to playing with my neighbor-friend Randy Frederick when he told me Santa Claus was not real. I called him a liar and ran back to my house.
I threw the door open and stood before my mom, sitting in her rocking recliner. “Mama, Randy says there is no Santa Claus. I called him a liar.”
She looked to the left at my dad sitting in his matching recliner. He shrugged.
“Well, honey, Randy is telling the truth. I’m sorry,” she said.
My face fell. I felt confused. “Then who ate the cookies and milk I left?”
“I did, sweetie.”
“But he always left a note and said the cookies tasted good.”
“I wrote the note. I’m sorry.”
I stared at her and could not believe what I was hearing. “What about the Easter Bunny?”
She shook her head. “No Easter Bunny either.”
“The Tooth Fairy?”
“Sorry, no.”
I stormed out the back door, sat on the steps, and cried. I didn’t want to see Randy Frederick ever again, and I wasn’t sure I liked my mom anymore. I wanted to still believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy, but I couldn’t.
How did you learn Santa Claus was not real? Who told you? How did you feel when you found out the Santa Claus you took a photo with was just an old man with a fake beard?
Tell us about this coming-of-age moment in the comments section below. I’d love to read your experience.
Also, if you know someone expecting a new bundle of joy, check out Baby’s Five-Year Journal, which we just received on Friday.
With a beautiful cover of baby animals and fourteen pages explaining five-year journaling and how to do it successfully, Baby’s Five-Year Journal is the perfect gift for new moms and dads.
And finally: Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
Please note: All grammatical and typographical errors have been put in this article for
your enjoyment in finding them.
Thanks for your story, Patricia. I am up early on Christmas morning and you have brought my memories of what I thought about Santa to life. Here is my story.
Patricia – Merry Christmas – and just this morning I shared on FB a story written by my brother 20 years ago – I hope you enjoy my “copy” of this mornings post: Some family memories never get old and should be shared again and again – my favorite essay from my borther Edwin Green…. Merry Chritmas to all and may Santa – the Jolly Old Man – be coming down your chimney (or knocking on your door!) Dec 23, 2022 It is two days before Christmas and I wanted to share with you my favorite story about whether Santa… Read more »
Where I grew up in Switzerland, the Kristkind (Christ Child) features on Christmas; Santa Claus visits at the beginning of the month. Every December the auto dealership where Dad worked used to have a special event to celebrate St. Nicholas’ Day (the saint’s day is December 6), a custom where Santiklaus (Santa Claus) visits and talks to all the children. If you were good – Santa always knew every little detail – you received a bag filled with fruit, nuts, a small toy or coloring book and color pencils. Those who didn’t behave during the year – one might guess,… Read more »
Patricia, I did not grow up with Santa. Where I lived, we had Father Frost, and he usually showed up on New Year’s Eve. It was the only holiday the Communist Party allowed people to celebrate that reminded them of Christmas, which most Russians celebrated before the Soviets took over. USSR was a godless country. My family, being Jewish, did not believe in Christmas and never put up a tree. But many Jews celebrated New Year’s with an evergreen tree because it was a National Holiday. Today, I want to share a story I wrote about a dear friend. He… Read more »