Santa is not real

The story is of St. Nicholas, evolving into Santa Claus: he was a 4th Century Greek Bishop known for secret gift giving. Dutch settlers brought this tradition to America as "Sinterklaas," whose name morphed into Santa Claus. The English "Father Christmas" merged with Nordic folklore, and poets/cartoonists like Clement Moore & Thomas Nast solidified the jolly, North Pole figure with reindeer and chimneys.
What's worse than finding out Santa isn't real as a kid? Finding out your parents are broke. Not so much Santa Claus as Saint "Nickel-less."
 
When I was a child, children believed in Santa Claus for a longer period of time than they do now. After all, there was no internet back then.
One year, several weeks before Christmas, my mother must have been mad about something I did, she looked at me and said, "And by the way, there's no Santa Claus!" My mother was never the brightest crayon in the box. I thought to myself, "Couldn't she give me one last Christmas, before telling me?"
 
My oldest brother felt that I was getting too old for Santa Claus and he said it's time you knew it wasn't real.

So I immediately went to my mother to ask her about it. Her face got very sad as she realized the last of her five children no longer believed.

But after thinking a moment, she said...

"Santa Claus is anybody who loves you."

That Christmas was completely devoid of any great joy. Things were just ordinary after that.

That was the last Christmas we would ever spend with my mother as she died of an inoperable cancerous brain tumor 4 months afterwards.
 
I don't remember ever really believing he was real although I enjoyed pretending I did. We lived in a small house with no fireplace, I had two smart-alecky older brothers and our parents always made us take a moment after opening the presents to thank Jesus for making it all possible.

However, I always believed in the reindeer and made sure to put carrots and sugar cubes out for them.
 
I can’t remember, but I do you remember I let go of the thought that he wasn’t real grudgingly.

My son was around 10 or 11 when some teenager on his school bus laughingly told him Santa wasn’t real. So he came home from school that day and asked me. I was already prepared for this to happen so my answer was ready.

I told him Santa physically was not a real person, but in the hearts of many people, he is real. I said here is your chance to play Santa Claus if you want to, and his ears perked up.

I was a single mom at that time, so money was tight. I asked my son if he would sacrifice the cost of one of his gifts to give to the neighbor’s young child as they were barely getting by.

He thought that was a great idea. We went to town and I let him do the shopping because he knew the little boy and he knew what might appeal to him. We also bought them a small turkey and a small bottle of wine that I explained to my son his mom probably really needed.

Together we wrapped everything and put everything in a basket along with the card. We waited till they had gone to church and then we took the basket over to their house and left it on the porch of the door they used all the time.

Several years later, I lost my son in a car accident. That ex neighbor came to my son‘s services. She tearfully told me how much that gift from Santa Claus meant to her and her child, especially since she had just found out her mom had been diagnosed with cancer.

It was a lesson in giving my son never forgot.

Santa Claus is real —- He is in the hearts of everyone who believe in giving.
 
When I was 2 -3 my grandad dressed up as Santa and it had this horrid looking plastic mask.
I screamed my head off and literally began climbing over Mom's head to get away from him
Grandpa took off the mask and crooned my name and kept saying "It's me, Grandpa"
Once I reached for him I said "My Santa Grandpa" so by accident I learned early.
I had my very own Santa for all his years.
 
IrishEyes said:
When I was 2 -3 my grandad dressed up as Santa and it had this horrid looking plastic mask.
I screamed my head off and literally began climbing over Mom's head to get away from him
Grandpa took off the mask and crooned my name and kept saying "It's me, Grandpa"
Once I reached for him I said "My Santa Grandpa" so by accident I learned early.
I had my very own Santa for all his years.
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I did the same thing when my daughter was about 1-2, only it was a Donald Duck mask. I thought she'd think it was funny, but she thought it was real and started screaming. And this was a kid who never screamed. I was horrified, ripped off the mask, kept saying, "It's me, Mommy," until she calmed down, and then I said "Bad mask" and started hitting it, overcome with guilt by that time, and she repeated, "Bad mask" and started hitting it also. Amazingly, she grew up to be a perfectly normal person anyway, and is now an adoring, sensitive grandmother of two wonderful kids. So they do survive at least some of the dumb things we do.

We never did anything with Santa stuff, except maybe to treat him like any other fictional character. I think he's a ridiculous, outdated character, who would have been long gone if he were not good for business. And isn't it really teaching kids that sometimes it's OK to lie, because even their parents do it? OK, the poem is charming, but I don't see the charm in lying to kids about a big fat man who sees us all the time and rewards us with toys if we are "good." And then, letting them learn that their parents have been lying to them. It's time to replace Santa with something else that makes more sense in the modern world.
 
A couple of years ago, my then-eight-year-old great-granddaughter told her mom that she knew Santa wasn't real. Her mom told her not to tell her then-five-year-old sister about Santa not being real. The five-year-old happened to be out of sight listening and came in the room saying, "Well, *I* know he's not real. I wondered when you guys would find out."

Can't put anything over on that one.

My parents used to explain that all those other Santas we'd see downtown were just "Santa's Helpers" because he just couldn't get around all over the place until Christmas Eve. We bought it.
 
Santa never existed here but his brother Saint Nicholas, I was 6 when a friend told me and I said: No! It's not true. He exists cause my mom told me and she never lies. Mom Annemieke said Saint Nick doesn't exist! Ehm yeah that's right. What???
I told this to my kids and decades later my eldest said to my parents, who always went out of their way to give us and the grandkids nice gifts: Why did you lie to mom? As if they were some criminals. The look on my dad's face. Lol. Sorry.
Oh lol the youngest knew he was fake but we saw em at the kids farm and the horse was real, so he believed the horse went on his own house to house to eat carrots from their shoes and leave a chocolate letter.
 
JustDave said:
I'm not sure how old I was, but it was traumatic. I felt betrayed by my parents, and I cried.
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you know , my daughter felt the same as you when i told her ...

At age 7 I thought it best to tell her myself before someone at school told her... and she was horrified... she took a step back looked at me wide eyed,,, and said accusingly '' You Lied''... why did you lie to me''...?

She'd been going through a period of telling me little fibs she'd picked up at school age around 6.. and I had told her over and over how unacceptable it was to not tell the truth.. so when i confessed about no Santa when she was 7 .. she felt utterly betrayed by me.. and it breaks my heart to this day.... because even now she's 49, if I bring it up, she'll still say.. why did you tell a lie in the first place !
 
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