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I was raised in a family where Santa was a staple. We had six children with a span of fourteen years between the oldest and the youngest so keeping Santa alive was a must. Once the youngest got the sad news about Santa there were grandchildren to keep him real.

I remember the year Santa's existance changed for me and my younger brother. It was 1970 and my nephew decided to appear on Christmas Eve. We were home waiting for our parents to return on Christmas Eve so we could leave the house and let Santa weave his magic. Our house was at the bottom of a mile high hill and we would watch for headlights coming down the hill. When a car would head our way my brother would run to the front of the house to see if it was our parents. This went on for hours.

Finally they returned home around midnight. My father went out to the utility room to retrieve the presents. They tried to tell us Santa put them there because we were home but the story just sort of fell apart since the door to the utility room was lined up with the window we were watching from. Plus the stern warnings to stay out of the utility room finally made sense.
Any other time of the year we were constantly sent there to help with laundry.

Finding out that Christmas Eve wasn't all that traumatic as we had a new nephew, great gifts and the assurance that we could now play Santa for the little nieces and nephew. What could have been a devastating experience turned out to be an adventure. We had been given the honor of a family tradition the older children had partaken in as they got older.

Today we keep the tradition going with our children and grandchildren. Our older children live far from us so we would have two Christmas celebrations. We'd open their gifts when they came home for an early Christmas. Having a child still at home, we kept Santa visiting on Christmas eve. I remember when our daughter found out the truth about Santa and how devastating it was. She had a very short wish list and just knew the gifts under the tree held those items even though I tried to tell her Santa couldn't give her everything on her list.

That night as we opened gifts I saw her face crumble. It tore my heart out as she run to her room crying in disappointment. It was time for the talk. After explaining about the concept of Santa her response was, "So I guess there's no Easter Bunny either." That Christmas, I not only killed off Santa but the Easter Bunny also. She has really gotten into being Santa in the following years but that Christmas will be with me forever.

Why do we lie to our children about Santa? The answer is easy. Look at the face of a child waiting in line to see Santa in the mall. Most, excluding the tykes crying because they are scared, look on with wonder at the man in the red suit. He will fill their little imaginations with all the wishes they have stored up all year long. It's a magical feeling.

In this family, as long as we have children, Santa will be alive. He lives in our hearts and fills our lives with magic even when we grow and stresses of the holiday season seem to overwhelm us. To watch the youngest in the family open their presents and exclaim, "It's just what I wanted!" or "I knew Santa would get this for me!" adds to the holiday magic. We have learned to let the children know that Santa can't possibly bring every gift on their list but we try to get one gift they really want.

So, if you were to ask me, "Do you believe in Santa?" My answer would be, "Yes, definitely." I wouldn't give up the warm feeling that comes with his existence. There are too many stresses all year to just give up the one form of magic I can count on at Christmas.

Learn more about this author, Dee Cain.
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