Is Santa the Same Thing as Christmas Magic?

My kids always knew that Dad bought gifts and left them under the tree. They always knew the guy in the red suit at the mall was just a guy in a red suit, and probably lived a couple miles away in a regular house. They always knew that no one would fit down any chimney. I chose from the beginning to let them in on the secret of Santa Claus, for reasons which aren't relevant to this post.

It makes me sad that there are kids and parents who think the magic of Christmas is lost once their kids no longer believe in Santa Claus. I believe the magic only ends when you stop believing in the magic, and that has nothing to do with whether Santa lives at the North Pole or sleeps in the master bedroom down the hall. Let me share with you some of the ways we shared the magic with our kids, in hopes that you can let the magic live on for your kids, and for yourselves.

My kids sat on Santa's lap (you know, the one at the mall, or at the church party, or anywhere they saw a red suit) at every opportunity, telling him what they wanted for Christmas. As they got older, they spoke loudly enough for me to hear, too. They talked to Santa with mischievous grins on their faces and delighted twinkles in their eyes, exactly as your kids do. Sometimes they whispered something in his ear that made the old man chuckle, but they never told me what it was they said. That was a magic secret between them and Santa, not for parents to hear.

My kids left cookies and milk out for Santa every Christmas Eve. Okay, not really. They asked Daddy what kind of treats Santa wanted this year, and Daddy always told them Santa wanted raw chocolate chip cookie dough and Coke, so that's what they left out. They made a huge production out of asking Daddy, with tickles and giggles all around. Then they cheerfully helped Mommy make the cookie dough, and choose the mug to leave Coke in.

My kids left notes for Santa, decorated in lovely crayon drawings, on Dad's bed. They asked at breakfast if Santa got their letters. Dad answered the notes in person. If they asked for confirmation about what Santa would bring, Dad would say, "Santa chooses," and that was that.

My kids knew we were poor. They knew kids who got a virtual mountain of presents from Santa. They never felt like Santa must love rich kids more. They never felt hurt or angry that Santa didn't bring everything on their list. We taught them to be grateful that Santa paid the light bill every month and kept food in the refrigerator.

My kids sent Thank You notes to Santa, along with notes to Mom and Dad. They mentioned the same presents in both notes. The only gift tags signed "Santa" were gifts for the family, like games and puzzles that we could play on Christmas afternoon. Santa, whoever he is, approves of family fun time.

When my kids were very small, we left a barricade of chairs at the living room door, When they could read, we taped paper to a string across the door, with the word S-T-O-P in large letters to keep them from going into the living room before Mom and Dad got up. I discovered later that the kids would stand, toes technically on the kitchen floor, leaning WAY out over the threshold with a broomstick, lifting tags on gifts to see what gift was for whom. I don't care if you believe Santa lives at the North Pole or down the hall, that's silly Christmas magic fun right there.

When the kids were way older, they started making the stop signs themselves. They got pretty elaborate. One year, Kevran covered the doorway entirely in wrapping paper, but cut out holes at eye level for each child. He measured carefully, and cut holes at 5'6", 5'10", and 6' off the ground. My grown up kids found magic in this game just as any kid finds magic in Christmas.

Today, my kids say they loved Christmas when they were children. They had all the magic of Christmas, and enjoyed all the fun of the season. There was nothing missing for them. Their Dad and I encouraged fun and games, and lively imaginations.

We absolutely insisted that other kids be allowed to pretend as long as they wanted, and no parent ever called to complain that my kid had given away the secret. When I heard my kids with their peers, they were happy to play the Santa game, and they played it well. So well, in fact, that when their friends started to figure out the truth about Santa Claus, my kids kept right on playing, having practiced the game for so many years.

The truth is that the magic of Christmas does not live at the North Pole. You were clever enough to help your kids believe in elves and flying reindeer for 6, or 8, or 10 years. Surely you are clever enough to find ways to extend the magic for the rest of their--and your--lives.

Please note that the truth about Santa is NOT that there is no Santa. The truth is that Santa lives in our hearts, and he can live there as long as we let him.  Merry Christmas!