I hope everyone has had a nice holiday season thus far. I went home to Connecticut for 4 days and spent lots of quality time with my family, particularly my brother K's family, as I was a guest in their home. My niece (soon to be 15) and nephews (13 and 10) are just adorable kids and I love spending time with them. As usual, Christmas was a big production at my brother's house. My brother and sister-in-law have always reveled in Christmas, as they have generous hearts, big purses, and childhood memories of growing up with less.
In addition to lots of gifts, they have really gone out of their way to impress upon their kids that Santa is real. That he is someone to believe in. That Santa delivers the goods to the good. To reinforce this belief, they wrap Santa's gifts in a different set of wrapping paper, use a different handwriting to sign the cards, and don't place any presents under the tree until after the kids are in bed on Christmas Eve. Plus, they put out the cookies, carrots, and milk for Santa and the reindeer. My job is to help with wrapping and to eat the carrots to look like reindeer nibbled on them (even tho' it would be quite absurd to imagine reindeer actually inside the house - oh well). In the end, it really is quite elaborate planning. And for a long time (and perhaps still for the youngest), their kids believed. As continuing proof, my youngest nephew asked just before going to bed that we needed to put out the milk, cookies, and carrots for Santa and reindeer. It was adorable.
Even as late as last year, there was some evidence to suggest my niece who was just shy of 14 years old still believed in Santa. Apparently, my brother overheard her talking with a friend X about another friend Y who didn't believe in Santa. My niece retorted to her friend X that clearly Santa exists because there is no way her parents would buy some of the things that arrive on Christmas day. I love that story! The power of childhood reasoning. For additional empirical evidence, read Professor Jaqueline Wooley's op-ed to the NYTimes about childhood reasoning about Santa. For a more humorous set of accounts, read Walter Kirn's story and Sandra Tsing-Loh's story.
Well, all this talk about Santa reminded me of my own childhood Christmas memory. I must have been 8 or so and I am not sure if I still believed in Santa. All I remember is that I caught my mom pulling out of the closet a big wrapped box that she dragged over to the Christmas tree. It was a huge present and it was marked for my brother M (not me!). I was crushed. What kind of present could my parents have gotten M but not me! Astutely sensing my worries, my mom reasurred me that it was a joke gift and it was actually a box full of rocks. I laughed out loud at the funny joke on my brother. I was pleased to be "in" on the joke. Then on Christmas morning as we opened gifts, my brother unwrapped the big box of rocks, except there were no rocks in it. Instead, he had gotten his first stereo system. He was elated and I was momentarily crushed. I felt deceived and envious. Then, it was my turn to open a present and I believe I got a race car track from Santa (or maybe it was my aunt) that Christmas. All was forgiven and my belief in the humanity of Christmas returned.
So this set of shared stories led to an interesting discussion with HW about when parents should tell their kids that Santa does not exist. I said that we should keep up the belief as long as possible. No doubt, my sister-in-law and brother quickly agreed on this point. HW said it depended on when and why the child asks. As a case in point, she shared the story of when her ex-partner's child asked if Santa existed when he was 5 years old. The separation and divorce of his parents was still relatively fresh. Being a little logical boy in need of certainty during uncertain times, he said that he wanted to do a test in which he would put out cookies and milk. He then made it clear to his dad and HW to not eat the cookies and to not drink the milk. If the cookies and milk remained untouched, then he would know that Santa did not exist. They struggled all night on what to do and, in the end, decided to let the boy learn the truth. On Christmas morning, he came downstairs and saw the cookies and milk still there. He knew then Santa did not exist. Of course, Christmas tradition carried forward as a time for family and sharing, but the mystique of Santa was no more.
Christmas is about believing and then there is BELIEVING. It's about learning to embrace the mystery of life, the mystery of goodness, the mystery of love. These things have no logical foundation, although we often try to create the illusion. In the end, it is just a belief in the unknown. We cannot predict the future with 100% certainty. There is no guarantee. Christmas represents a mystery birth. The birth of a baby is a reflection of the mystery of life itself. What or who gives us the breath of life? We can believe in Christmas as simply a noble day to be together as a family and to share love, but I would prefer to BELIEVE in Christmas as a day of the mystery of birth and life. To me, believing in Santa is a scaffolding experience toward learning to believe in the mystery of life. And so, I hope my kids someday will believe in Santa for as long as possible.
Posted by richlee at December 29, 2006 09:07 AMThat story about your niece and nephews is amazing! My siblings and I all stopped believing sometime in early elementary school, but my parents would still do the Santa thing. I'm not sure if they really thought we still believed; I'm sure after awhile we all knew it was just a charade, but then again, maybe they kept it up for my sister who is 8 years younger than me.
The story about the 5 year old is heartbreaking! I can definitely sympathize with the parents' struggle with lying to their kid. I'm sure sometime as a teen I swore I wouldn't lie to my kids like that.
Posted by: RobynT at December 29, 2006 11:56 PM