Santa and I have a wonderful relationship. I have never had a negative experience associated with Santa Claus, even when I discovered that *gasp* he wasn't real. And you know why? Because Santa IS real, and you will never convince me otherwise.
Where I grew up, I saw the same Santa Claus every year. I later came to find out that he his name was George, and he went to my Grandma's church. It was she, my wonderful Grandmother, who let slip to me that "George would be doing Santa at Bettianne's this weekend." My young heart stopped for a moment, but I didn't say anything, because I didn't want my Grandma to feel bad for letting it slip. I was a very intuitive child I believe, and I had seen the movies and heard the stories of children's lives being RUINED and parents feeling terrible about it when such a secret was revealed.
I continued to defend Santa Claus to my elementary friends as if my life depended on it. One friend caught their parents stuffing stockings, and this was still not enough to sway my belief.
Yet came one Christmas Eve when I lay awake, dealing with my sleep anxiety that I suffered with for years, and I heard a strange rattling in the living room and my parents talking quietly. It sounded like beads clanging against the coffee table. I thought nothing of it then, but when I woke up on Christmas it all clicked.
I had received a beaded door hanger from "Santa Claus", and it was sitting on the coffee table for me that morning. At that moment, I knew Mom and Dad had put it there, and I knew the Santa from the movies wasn't authentic.
But I wasn't crushed, I wasn't too sad, I wasn't angry at my parents for lying to me for my entire life. Christmas was still the best. And I began to wonder why I had so adamantly defended Santa's existence much longer than was probably normal.
And simply put, it was because in my Catholic family, Santa Claus was St. Nick.
If you've ever seen this movie, Nicholas: The Boy Who Became Santa, then you are a privileged individual! It's fantastic.
I won't get into all of the cultural origins of the Santa Claus of today, but in this movie I learned that throughout his life St. Nicholas secretly gave away many treasures. Most notably, he left sacks of gold in the socks (that were left to dry above the fireplace) of a father who was soon to be forced to sell his daughters into prostitution, saving them from a terrible fate.
So naturally, this all clicked for me as a kid. I reasoned that by the grace of God and the magic that I was so sure existed in the world, St. Nick started in this way, first inspired by the gifts of the Magi given to Baby Jesus, and simply became more magical as time went on. And of course he had successors who continued on in the same spirit, gaining even more magic each time!
Guess what--I still believe this. I still believe that St. Nicholas's successors carry on his legacy, albeit differently. They're our parents and the mall Santas and the Santas named George from Lamar, Colorado. And I don't quite know how to describe it, but part of me still believes in the Santa that flies in a sleigh pulled by reindeer and slides down a chimney (or uses the special house key you leave out if you don't have a chimney). Perhaps believe isn't the right word; perhaps it's more of a deep yearning or hope that manifests itself as truth in my brain. But I think I believe more in the pure and utter joy that Christmas has always brought me.
So yes, I still believe in Santa Claus. I believe in the legacy of men who gave treasures to Christ, and a Saint who left gifts in the socks of those who needed them, and a magical man rooted in that legacy who gives gifts to children, and the joy that believing in such a being brings to those who embrace it.
Embrace the joy of Santa Claus, of St. Nicholas, and believe in him too! :)
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