Recently I read an article in Good Housekeeping magazine where Amy Grant was talking about her youngest daughter and her strong belief in Santa, or maybe rather her choice to still believe in Santa even though she had been told the truth.
Amy Grant said (referring to her daughter) - "I believe she'll give Santa credit for all good things that happen at Christmastime until she's 25, because she loves the mystery and magic of giving. When she was younger, I felt like I needed to ease her into reality. Now she clearly understands reality and chooses to make the mystery fun for all of us."
After reading that I couldn't help but think of my own poor parents and the night they "eased me into reality." You see, and I'm not embarrassed to say this, I believed in Santa Clause until age 10. Do the math - thats 5th grade. And I believed with every part of my being, thats how much I believed.
Unfortunately, my "reality" came as part of a punishment. Apparently I was being a brat that year and I had asked Santa for some toy (probably a Barbie nail salon) and then I got into some trouble (probably from disrupting class at school). My original punishment must have been that I was not getting (insert said gift), but when they told me I would not be receiving the top item on my Christmas list I quickly replied, "Fine. I'll just ask Santa for it." Did I mention I was being a brat?
Instead of simply telling me I was on the naughty list that year my parents called me into our family room to have a talk. Sidenote: nothing good follows the words, "we need to talk." They told me that Santa was not real and that they were the ones that had been giving gifts all those years. I didn't believe them...the past 10 years a lie? No way. I thought they were trying to get me to not believe in Santa so that he wouldn't get me the toy I had asked for. Growing up they had always told us that if we ever stopped believing in Santa he would stop bringing toys. This, I thought, was a setup. After some convincing, and let's be real here probably a few tears, I saw the light and began to ask the bigger questions...
"Is the easter bunny real?"
"No."
"Is the tooth fairy real?"
"No."
"Is GOD real?!?!"
"Yes, Miranda God is real!!!!"
And that was that. I was told to keep the news hush hush to my cousin and younger sister who had been skeptics for several years. I was the one convincing them to believe. Oh, and I didn't get the toy I asked for in case you were wondering.