Wit & Wisdom: Holding on to the Magic of Christmas

Angela Henderson-Bentley


    The year was 1977, the year I declared to my parents that I knew there was no Santa Claus. I was three years old.
    Why I came to that conclusion at such a young age, I don’t remember. But I do remember being confident I was right. My mother tried to convince me otherwise, but I knew the truth. There was no Santa Claus.
    That Christmas Eve we prepared to make our traditional trip to Grandma’s house. We were all ready to go when Mom forgot something and asked Dad to help her with it. My brother Jeff and I played games in the car while we waited for them. After what seemed like forever, we were finally on our way.
    At Grandma’s house, all my cousins were excited about Santa coming and I just shook my head. They would all find out the truth soon enough, I thought. I was still shaking my head on the ride home, all the way up until the moment I walked in the living room to find all of my presents under the Christmas tree. And that’s when I stopped in my tracks.
    Those presents weren’t there when we left. How could they have possibly gotten there? In my three-year-old mind, there was only one explanation. I had been wrong. Santa was real and he had come early while we were gone. That had to be what happened. I happily threw off my jacket and started cooking at my new play kitchen.
    Now, it’s not too hard to figure out what happened here. Mom didn’t forget anything. That was just an excuse to give her and Dad time to put all the gifts under the tree while Jeff and I were in the car. That way it would look like Santa came while we were gone. It makes perfect sense now, but to a three year old, only an appearance by St. Nicholas could explain it.
    My entire family conspired together to prove to me there was a Santa Claus. But why? Why go to all that trouble when it would have been easier to just tell me the truth? Because they weren’t ready for me to give up the magic.
    As adults, we know full well there is no Santa Claus. If we don’t, our January credit card bills are definitely proof. But does knowing there isn’t a Jolly Old St. Nicholas coming down the chimney mean we have to give up the magic of Christmas? No, it does not.
    It’s so easy to just let the magic fade as you’re running around trying to get the perfect gift for all of the people on your list and trying to decide where to eat dinner and who’s going to cook it. But as my family did for a three-year-old me, find a way to hang on to it. If family or friends get you down, help create that special magic for someone else by donating toys or donating or serving food. Seeing that sparkle in someone else’s eyes we once had on Christmas morning can truly bring the magic home.
    In the early ‘80s, an older me once again embraced the reality of no Santa Claus, and my family didn’t try to convince me otherwise, as it was time for me to move on. But thanks to them, I enjoyed a few more years of Santa and believing in something truly special. My family wouldn’t let me give up on the magic of Christmas too soon. And this holiday season, I urge you to follow their example and not be so quick to give up on it either.