The Great Santa Claus Debate

Sweet friends, our weather is finally feeling amazing! I am struggling to find my sweaters and long sleeves each morning and I LOVE IT!!!! In the past month, we have celebrated our 1st Anniversary, spent a full day shopping with my brother and sister, and, yes, decorated our home (both inside and out) for Christmas. Sorry, I just could not wait any longer. I love Christmas. Don't know where I get it from *clearing throat* (Mommy, maybe?).

I don't know about you, but I feel like Justin and I are still making our own place in Christmas traditions. There are so many that I brought from my family last year. They work well for Justin and I and I love being able to share some of my favorite Christmas traditions with my husband now. That said, there are some traditions that can not take place just yet that we have been considering a lot lately- one example is Santa Clause.

Now I don't know about you, but I grew up with Santa Claus at Christmas time. Even after finding out about his "true identity", it was a fun tradition in the house. (Oh, the pleasures of having little brothers and sisters!) Ever since then though, I have heard a hundred arguments revolving around him.

No, we don't have children yet, but Justin and I both seem to find our time now the perfect time to decide. Personally, we like the idea of Santa Claus for our future family. I would be lying to say it isn't partly fueled by some sentimentality for a favorite childhood memory ourselves.

For Justin- "Yay! Because it was a lot of fun when I was a kid, and I want it to be a lot of fun for our 

                     kids too."

Okay, so I didn't try to kill Santa...just screamed bloody-murder until my parents "saved" me.

For me- I agree completely. While I probably gave more than one mall Santa reason to down an advil bottle for a few years in a row, I loved setting out cookies and the Santa glass of coke and making reindeer food to throw in the yard on Christmas Eve night. I even liked keeping the secret a secret for my parents with my brother and sister. He was one more happy part to Christmas time.

We weren't stingy with the cokes when Santa came on Christmas Eve!

Maybe that is it for me- Santa was a part of Christmas time. As for Justin and I, we want him to be a part of Christmas time for our family too one day.

I know one of the greatest complaints I hear revolves around the horror stories of parents who told their children the truth and suddenly distrust clouded their senses and they didn't know what or if to trust even their parents ever again. Maybe that does happen with some children, and while I have theories, I have to be honest- this never happened with me. When my parents told me, I was disappointed, but only in the fun disappearing a bit. Truth be told, I was still excited for Christmas and I was still excited to watch my sister be excited. I never doubted that I could trust my parents and I learned to take pleasure in the excitement of others.

Overall, I look back and think it was an incredibly sweet gesture on my parents part to give us that excitement for all of those years. The budget was tight back then and yet they still gave us those memories. They let a cheerful (though fictitious) character take the credit for a mountain of gifts and a stocking full of little favorites when they themselves were the "elves" slaving through night after an already late evening of family dinners and gift openings at home. Our Santa worked long hours at a power plant to come home and work in his freezing, cramped work shop in the backyard more than one year in a row. Our Mrs. Claus managed dinners, holiday flus, extended family drama, baths, and household affairs on a daily basis only to spend Christmas Eve in a mixture of Barbie boxes and paint acrylics on hope chest and doll houses. Nevertheless, we woke at 3 on Christmas mornings to quietly scan over Santa's delivery in the darkness, sneak back to our beds, and "wake" again at 6 with parents who were full of smiles and hugs and taking pictures like nobody's business. We were dressed quickly in matching outfits, loaded into the car, and visiting relatives for much of the day and they never showed frustration. My very realistic parents could have taken Santa and the elves as a moment to explain the unrealistic possibilities of time, travel, and supply and demand, but they didn't. They kept their lips sealed tight and adorned themselves in what can only be described as the perfect mixture of Christmas spirit and love. Isn't that what it is all about though.

Christmas isn't and, in my opinion, has never been a time built on the realities of the time. It isn't the time of the year when you all sit around and discuss the failings of Hollywood, the continuous downward spiral of literacy in our education systems, and the ups and downs of economics. It is supposed to be a time to remember and celebrate hope. Hope didn't come at the beginning of the world, when all was perfect and Eve had yet to listen to a certain serpent. It came when all seemed lost. It came when so many felt lost and hopeless. God gave us His Son at a time when all hope must have seemed lost; when no one expected it, and yet their hearts must have cried for it. Sound familiar? To me it does. No matter where we look these days, someone always seems willing to fill us with fear and to cover whatever happiness we have with doubt and sadness. I am not saying we should ever avoid reality, but at Christmas, if at no other time, it seems to me that everything changes. You don't just accept reality with all of its painful truths, but instead work harder to find and encourage the hope and the love that still remains in this life.

I don't know about you, but here the weight of the summer air vanishes and I can breath again. The lights may not shine on every home, but whenever you find them, can you not help but smile in the randomness of their appearances. No tree is the same, no home decorated alike, no Christmas meal exact. Bells ring at storefronts with children tugging at their parents sleeve to let them put something inside much like they do with fountains throughout the rest of the year. Secret Santas are not in short supply, because secret gifts are given and kindness extended among strangers.

But I digress...

Santa does not bother me because for me he is a mere part of Christmas. He was a real person, one who was known to have extended secret gifts to those in need. Since when do we not recognize people, both past and present, for the admirable examples that they leave behind. The mystery of Santa Claus may only last a few short years in childhood, but the excitement remains long after. For most of history children have grown up with the myth, then the truth, only to follow suit and gift their children with the same memories. No matter the world's affairs or the countries, not even the economy's ups and downs, has ever seemed to cease the excitement of Santa. If nothing else, Santa Claus is a prime example of someone who gives without expecting anything in return.

This is just my opinion. Time seems to have forced me to seriously consider just why it is he doesn't bother me at Christmas, and why exactly we want him to be a part of Christmas in our family one day. If I've been to wordy, I might suggest you read the famous editorial "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus" from The Sun which has been read for more than a century now. If you would rather, search for "Yes, Virginia". It is the cutest 30 minute movie on the article. Netflix is even carrying it at the moment. Either way, the editor's response is priceless even in today's age.

How about you? What do you think about the Santa tradition? Do you have any memories of him from your childhood?