Remember that annoying kid in elementary school who went around telling everyone that Santa Claus isn’t real?
That was me.
I don’t remember ever believing in Santa - my parents never tried to spin that yarn for me. We still left out cookies (or our traditional cheeseball and crackers) for him and got one big “Santa” gift on Christmas morning, but I always knew it was all done in jest.
I’ve talked to many people who would tell me that I've never experienced the “magic of Christmas” if I've never believed in Jolly Ol’ Saint Nick.
So call me crazy, but I plan to raise my kids the same way.
There are plenty of reasons not to give in to the Santa tradition. Though I’ve not experienced it personally, I’ve heard enough of the ensuing heartbreak when kids finally learn the truth to be dissuaded from this path. I’ve also been told by more than one individual that shattering the Santa illusion led them to then question if Jesus and His miraculous birth were just another Christmas myth.
Furthermore, whenever children have a misguided notion, there’s the risk of embarrassment when corrected - and the parents might not always get to be the ones to do some gentle explaining. Cue 7-year-old-me. And while I may have been the school yard jerk in second grade, I assure you, it was every other kid in my sixth grade class laughing at Morgan for being the last kid unlucky enough to still believe.
My personal conviction in doing away with Kris Kringle has to do with learning gratitude and eschewing any attitude of entitlement. Just like I hate watching a 2-year-old open gift after endless gift at her birthday without any thought as to who should be thanked, I abhor the scene of Christmas morning where kids rush downstairs to rip open their gifts, unaware of who gave what, simply knowing that “Santa came!” Santa means that you get presents; Santa means that there’s no reason you shouldn’t get presents (precluding, of course, naughty-list behaviour). Santa does not mean thoughtful choosing of gifts, or sacrifice to make those gifts a reality, or offering sincere thanks to the giver.
My husband, at first, attested that the notion of Santa Clause gives you the opportunity to give anonymously, a practice he remembers fondly from his childhood Christmases. Still, I contest that to experience the tenderness of giving without thanks, you have to be in on the ruse. In order to ‘play Santa’, you have to understand that he doesn’t exist.
When asked why the tradition of Santa Claus is so important, I have only heard Father Christmas enthusiasts splutter, “because that’s the magic of Christmas!” What a poor Christmas, I should think, we are giving our children if mysteriously appearing toys are the most magical thing we have to offer them. Watch any cheesy Hallmark movie and you’ll be reminded that the true magic of Christmas is love, sharing time with family, and, lest we forget, the birth of our Saviour.
This past Christmas, we spent the gift-giving morning with my parents. There, we’ve always had a tradition of taking things slowly, opening gifts one at a time, oohing and ahing as everyone else receives their presents, too. As I watched my brother unwrap an item that my parents had clearly put some thought into, I thought to myself, “this is magical.” Seeing the hard work they’d gone to in order to make Christmas special, not just for me and my family, but for all of their children, made me feel blessed and appreciative for this time of year. I don’t need Santa Clause to make the season enchanting.
So I’m sticking to my guns. My children don’t need to be fed the Santa story to experience the “magic of Christmas”. And while I’ll try to make sure my kids don’t spoil it for yours when they meet on the playground, I also hope you’ll consider being the one to decide the jig is up before they have the chance.
