Apparently as a very young child, I was a bit of a behavior challenge to my parents. I was pretty stubborn and self-centered, demanding a lot of attention. Various methods to control my temper tantrums were tried with limited success but the one time of year when I was almost angelic, occurred in the few weeks leading up to Christmas. The source of this annual turn around was Santa Claus!
My parents brilliantly discovered that HE could indeed work miracles upon me. I was familiar with all the tales and lyrics about Santa, and absolutely believed that he could see me when I was sleeping, knew when I was awake, checked his list twice to see if I was naughty or nice and rewarded good behavior with generous gifts on Christmas morning. Alas, to those who displayed temper tantrums, or were naughty and unkind, they would receive only a few lumps of coal in their stocking. Now this really hit home with me—I really wanted those generous gifts! As a result, I was actually terrified of the bearded man as he was God, The Wizard of Oz, and Supreme Judge all rolled into one in my mind. I did my very best to be on good behavior but knew there were times when I had slipped up and could only hope he had looked away for an instant or two. The thought of seeing the real Santa in person, sitting on his lap and conversing with him was unthinkable—surely, he would be able to see past my facade. No photo ops with Santa for me!
There were two “encounters” that I can recall. One Christmas Eve (when I was three years old), I was in the car with my father when he went to pick up my great aunt who was going to stay with us through the holiday. It was already dark as we headed back home, and low and behold, a few blocks away, there was Santa walking on the sidewalk! My Dad pulled up next to him thinking it would be nice if I met the jolly old man, but as Santa approached our car, I dove down onto the floor of the car and began to cry. Santa smiled and simply said I must get to bed soon so that he could make his delivery later. Honestly, the minute we returned home, I raced into the bedroom I shared with my older sister, peeled off my clothes and said I had to get to bed and go to sleep quickly or Santa wouldn’t come. I was a wreck!….The second encounter occurred when I was five. The doorbell rang one early evening about a week before Christmas. My Dad opened the door and then walked into the living room accompanied by Santa! He was magnificent! Though I was very hesitant, there was something about him that dispelled my angst, and I began to shyly talk to him. The visit was brief but as he was leaving, I said to him quite innocently, that he was wearing the same kind of ring my Uncle Joe wore. I did not catch the reaction of my parents, Nana, or my sister who were all in the room, but Santa replied something like “how nice” and left. Apparently, the whole family had a hard time keeping their act together after my observation. (Uncle Joe was not a blood relative, but a dearly loved next door neighbor who was like an older father. Turned out that he was indeed “my” Santa!)
By the time I was six, there were many doubts in my mind about the reality of Santa. I mean, I always had a vivd imagination, but let’s face it, how could he be a real person? And Flying Reindeer? And climbing down the chimney? That was a particular cause of doubt for me as we had no fireplace and yet there were still gifts under the tree! And how about visiting every house all in one night? I kept my questions to myself that year “just in case” but after the Holiday, as we undecorated the house, I asked for the Truth! I cried at first when my suspicions were confirmed because the idea of Santa was so magical but I was assured that Santa did live in our hearts and minds.
Yes, Santa Claus is associated with Christmas by the secular and commercial world and they have benefited greatly from the connection. But I still love the real lessons of the Holiday as shown in movies and specials such as ‘Miracle on 34th Street’, ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’, and ‘The Grinch Who Stole Christmas’. It is having belief in the miracle of Faith in things unseen, Hope for a World of Joy and Peace and the Goodness of mankind. They are annual reminders of how things could be!
May each of you find your own meaning of the coming Holiday in what ever manner you choose to celebrate it!
From me to you: Merry Christmas! May Santa Live On!
It's funny, honestly, I cannot EVER remember an "in-person" encounter with the big man in red as a child. And I remember the day that I asked my mom if he was "real", the crying was from my mother (I guess she wasn't ready for her eldest child to lose that "part" of childhood). But my wife came from a very different experience, and I am glad that it was shared with our daughter. My wife's father - and later my daughter's grandfather - miraculously got tired EARLY on Christmas Eve. He "went to bed" and behind his closed door, donned a very believable Santa suit. The kids were then shuffled off to bed, only to hear noises outside and then…
It’s hard to picture you as a stubborn child but I love the image of you hiding from Santa crouching down in the backseat! The spirit of Christmas be with you as well.
Great Christmas memories!