Yes, Virginia There Really is a Santa Claus by Kelly Artieri
It is December, there is a bit of snow on the ground and a chill in the air. I can hear Christmas carols almost everywhere I go. Lights, garlands and decorations adorn most every building, desk and door. My gifts are purchased, wrapped and cookies made, yet I lack the giddy anticipation that I usually welcome this time of year. I love Christmas, usually the more holiday chaos the better, but I am just not feeling it much this year. There is nothing wrong, no particular reason, just a lack of enthusiasm for the season. I almost feel guilty for my complacency. I think back several years ago when my daughter was just a wee thing, all of about four years old or so. We had attended a company Christmas party. Santa was there and everyone’s children were enjoying the festivities. There were goodies and gifts for everyone. My husband and I noticed on the way home, how quiet our daughter was after the party. We chalked it off to fatigue, since Christmas is exhausting when you are a child. All or nothing! The next morning was a different story, we prepared for Pre-school, but the silent listless abandon could no longer be attributed to the previous evening’s weariness. Foreheads were checked for signs of fever, belly buttons tickled to rule out tummy disturbances, and only when I grabbed her up in a “mom-hug” did the tears begin to fly. “Santa is not real” came out between sobs. Heartbroken, I looked at my
daughter, and asked her what she meant. Hanging tightly around my neck she began to explain that one of the big kids at last evening’s party told all the little ones that there was no Santa. I looked into my daughters big brown eyes filled with tears and sheer anguish. Honestly, I am not sure who was crying harder at that point. I hugged her as tightly as I could and whispered that regardless what she heard, Mommy believed in Santa. She softly patted my face and seemed to take some solace in that statement. After taking my daughter to Pre-school for the morning, I traveled across town to the mall. I needed to talk to Santa. I was not prepared for this revelation to happen to my family yet. Selfishly I adored the Christmas morning excitement and I was just not ready to give it up, nor was I content with the way that the blissful childhood mystery had ended. I waited there in line by myself with other Mom’s and kids waiting to tell the big guy what they wished for. When my turn approached, Santa looked at me strangely. I am sure it looked odd me standing there with no child in tow.
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