We've had a few conversations about Santa recently. More specfically, what we will or won't be telling our children someday. Now the back story, my husband who swears he was deprived as a child (and claims he never had any toys, just a hammer and a piece of wood- but no nail) was not brought up with Santa. When he was old enough to understand, his parents explained that some parents taught their children about Santa coming and that it was ok for them. I, on the other hand, believed in Santa for longer than everyone else in my class. I heard him, OK! There was a loud bump in our living room, just as Larry King was saying NORAD had tracked Santa over Venezuala--- they were of course wrong, he had just come through the TV. (We didn't have a chimney.) I had suspected there might not be a Santa after that, but I didn't care.
I'll tell you a secret, I still believe in Santa.
You see, there's a reason why every year we go out and buy gifts to wrap for under the tree. There's a reason why we let our little ones hope and dream about the magic Christmas morning will bring. There's a reason why I try to drop a gift or two in the toys for tots barrel every year (if I can find one). It's because once there was a man who celebrated one of the greatest days in the history of mankind by giving gifts to people. He wanted to be anonymous. But we know his name is Nicholas, Saint Nicholas- Santa Claus. His spirit still lives on in our hearts, hopes, and dreams.
Since we are adopting older children, we probably won't get the choice of whether or not our children know who Santa is. But if they do, when the time comes as it inevitably will, when they don't believe in the magic and make believe anymore, that is what I'll tell them. He may not be here in a red suit, and he may not have a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer, or come down a chimney- but he IS real. Because one man long ago decided to do something to bring glory to God, we still do it today.