I was in 2nd grade and clearly remember sitting in the cafeteria, eating lunch with my best friend Anne, a few weeks before Christmas. The holiday decorations had just gone up that morning at school. We sat gazing at a large wooden, painted cutout of Santa and his sleigh. I excitedly began to tell Anne what I was going to ask Santa for that year. She cut me off and flatly told me there was no Santa. “What do you mean?” I asked worriedly. She explained that Santa is not real and that parents only acted like Santa. They bought all the gifts. She further explained that the previous Christmas her dad made her take a bath on Christmas Eve so he could secretly put out presents (her first tip off since Santa comes while you’re in bed sleeping, not taking a bath). He then climbed up on the roof and stomped around, acting like Rudolph and the gan
g and yelling ‘Ho, Ho, Ho’ for all the world to hear. Unfortunately he was drunk at the time. A fresh blanket of snow helped accelerate his slippery slide off the two story roof. Luckily there was a tree to break his fall, but her mom still had to rush him to the hospital to make sure he was OK. I was shocked at the news and couldn’t finish my lunch. Talk about a reality check! Of course I believed her because she was the smartest kid in the class and wouldn’t lie about something so serious.
I raced home after school and asked my mom. She said that of course Santa is real and we must believe or he wouldn’t stop at our house. But then I knew better. The signs were there if I looked hard enough. I pretended to believe for my little brother, and he believed all the way up to 4th grade. By that time, older and wiser, I came to the conclusion that while Santa might not be real, the Spirit of Santa lives on, inspiring kind and generous acts around the holiday season.
g and yelling ‘Ho, Ho, Ho’ for all the world to hear. Unfortunately he was drunk at the time. A fresh blanket of snow helped accelerate his slippery slide off the two story roof. Luckily there was a tree to break his fall, but her mom still had to rush him to the hospital to make sure he was OK. I was shocked at the news and couldn’t finish my lunch. Talk about a reality check! Of course I believed her because she was the smartest kid in the class and wouldn’t lie about something so serious.I raced home after school and asked my mom. She said that of course Santa is real and we must believe or he wouldn’t stop at our house. But then I knew better. The signs were there if I looked hard enough. I pretended to believe for my little brother, and he believed all the way up to 4th grade. By that time, older and wiser, I came to the conclusion that while Santa might not be real, the Spirit of Santa lives on, inspiring kind and generous acts around the holiday season.
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