There Really Is A Santa Claus
Disclaimer: Do not read this post if you believe in Santa Claus.
This is one of my favorite Christmas memories from 1994.
Mom! You and Dad are wrong! There really IS a Santa Claus!
Our children were four and five years old and their friends were starting to figure out that Santa was not real. That’s when our kids found out he was real.
Mind you, we enjoyed Santa Claus in our home but decided early on that Santa would be known as a cartoon. Jesus was the reason we celebrated. It all was fine until that infamous day when our kids bounded up the stairs with footsteps louder than reindeer prancing on the rooftop.
Mom! You and Dad are wrong! There really IS a Santa Claus! I did my standard speech. Santa Claus is fun but he is a cartoon. Jesus is the reason for the season. It usually ended the questions… usually. They were not going for it this time.
They had apparently weighed the evidence with pros and cons for Santa’s existence. Together, they decided the problem was not whether there was a Santa Claus. The problem was that Mom and Dad did not know! Fully informed and equipped with arguments, they told me in no uncertain terms that we had it wrong. Santa was real.
I grabbed the wall phone and roto dialed my husband at work. I think we ruined our children! I admit I might have been slightly dramatic. Nonetheless, I wondered if we had. They not only wanted to believe in Santa Claus. They did believe in Santa Claus. Now what? We decided right then and there to go along with their conclusion.
Something magical happened! The storage side of the basement became the Elves workshop who would only show up when our children were in bed. Even so, there was little sleep. The Elves were too busy making noise.
Christmas morning arrived! Footsteps louder than reindeer prancing on the rooftop stomped up the stairs. Ho, Ho, Ho! They were right! Santa Claus was real after all. Year after year the Elves set up their noisy workshop. Year after year Santa Claus arrived in full Santa Claus attire.
Our children grew up and their question eventually became, Who was Santa Claus that came to our house? My only response was, Santa Claus was… Santa Claus. On one hand they enjoyed it. On the other hand, it became a need to know. Was he real? No. But who was the guy in the red suit?
Get this! Our children were now eighteen and nineteen years old and home on Christmas break. Their footsteps were louder than reindeer prancing on the rooftop as they shouted. We know who Santa Claus is!!! I said what I always said. Santa Claus is Santa Claus. Nooooooooooo, Mom!!!!! We know who Santa Claus is. It’s Mr. Ed. We read your journal!!!