Yesterday, I took my son Kenny, who was 8 in September, to a party where someone we didn?t know was dressed up as Santa Claus.
This year he?s been struggling to hold on to his belief in the existence of Santa Claus. I know this because one day a couple of months ago he asked some questions about whether Santa Claus was real and from the way he asked, it was apparent that some of the older kids at school had been messing with his mind. [Was I as open a book to my parents as he is to me? Probably I was, and if so, they were a lot more clever, and tolerant, than I gave them credit for. This is not the first time I?ve been obliged to confront this reality.]
We fended off the questions as best we could, which I thought was rather lamely considering how clever Kenny is, and the matter lay there poorly-resolved. He never sought a better explanation, which was somewhat surprising given how tenaciously he usually pursues a fuzzy answer (I wonder where he got that from?). I?m assuming he decided to let well-enough alone and as December 25th approaches he is clearly back in the believer column. He showed absolutely no doubts when sitting on Santa?s lap at the party asking him for all manner of Yu Gi Oh cards and video games (all of which we already had, so thankfully we don?t have to rush out in a mad frenzy and try to find them on shelves that have been stripped bare by the hordes of shoppers who preceded us). Sadly, this is likely the last year we will see Christmas through a believer?s eyes, so I plan to intensely enjoy every millisecond of Saturday morning. I believe that I felt this way last year, but I'm thankful I was granted a year's reprieve from reality.
While writing this I?ve been reflecting on my own experiences with Santa Clause. Kenny?s been doing a pretty good job of suspending disbelief, but I really had to work at it. When we lived in Montreal, my father played Santa at 3 or 4 church and community gatherings every year. I willingly accepted the story my parents concocted; something along the lines of "Santa can't be everywhere at once, so he has a lot of helpers". I vaguely remember believing that this festively-uniformed army of foot soldiers kept track of every kid?s wish and passed it on to Santa. I must have been a very willing co-conspirator to overlook the blatant inconsistencies of the tale. I don?t think I ever questioned why I had to tell my father's Santa persona what I wanted several times AND write a letter to Santa AND tell the 'real' Santa (the one at Eaton?s St. Catherine?s Street store) what I wanted. I don?t believe that I was that credulous, rather I would like to think I was just clever enough to understand that some legends will not stand up to much probing. I do sort of remember trying to be on my best behaviour in light of the naive belief that dad had a direct line to Santa.
I was able to steadfastly maintain my gullibility in this matter until a few weeks before the Christmas when I was Kenny?s age. My friend's mother overheard me gushing about what I had asked Santa for, and took it upon herself to bring me back to reality by asking me flat out if I still really believed in Santa Claus. This was followed by a longish pause while I got over being taken aback and finally stammered out "uhh no?". Not satisfied with this stifling of my imagination she pursued the matter by asking me who I thought actually brought the gifts that allegedly came from Santa. Less of a pause as I quietly admitted that I knew it was my parents. I don?t know why she thought that she had any right to impose her standards of the appropriate age for a child to give up on believing in a harmless myth on me, but clearly she did. I?ve always been a bit annoyed when recalling this incident, and I?ve obviously not completely forgiven her for interfering, even after the better part of 50 years. I suppose I just would have preferred to not have such an important defining moment unnecessarily thrust upon me.
We usually don't get a chance to revisit such unresolved issues, but, believe it, or not, there?s an outside chance that the lady in question is reading this. In case you are, what were you thinking?
Posted by Don Ferguson
at 1:59 PM EST
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