How do you tell a child there is no Father Christmas? Every parent worries about how they will deal with this eventuality. Most of us avoid the topic, hoping it will gradually dawn on them without us saying anything. As a child I cannot remember when it was I realized the truth, or how I found out about it. There are memories of the magical Christmas mornings rushing down to see what Santa has brought, fully believing he was real. Then it seems to be a blur, until the memories are of looking forward to our presents, but knowing full well they came from our parents not some mythical guy in a red suit.
In the Christian world it seems to be one of the most widespread ethical dilemmas existing. On the one hand we are telling our children not to lie and that God does not like it. Then on the other hand we are lying to our children over one of the most sacred times in the Christian calendar. We spend years as a parent building the belief in this mysterious figure only for some day to face the prospect of admitting to our children we have been lying all these years.
These days Christmas for many seems to have become one big commercial enterprise. Stores stock up on Christmas goods earlier and earlier each year. Advertising hits us, especially our kids, on what is the latest 'must have' toy or gadget. And given we have taught our kids to believe in Santa, they expect Santa to deliver, whether we can afford it or not. And yet we all want our children to feel the magic we did as kids.
So what should we do? Should we debunk Santa, possibly breaking our children's hearts in the process? Do we lose the magic of the occasion? Or do we continue in the time honored lying, our own parents taught us?
I remember when my oldest, who had just turned 9 years old at the time, faced the question of the reality of Santa. We had gentle broken the news to her that there was no Santa but she refused to believe us. So, with the faith of a 9 year old, she wrote to Santa asking if he was true, what his real name was and if she could see him. She sealed the letter up and asked her mother to send it. When my wife shared the letter with me that evening, I was at a loss as to what I should do. After some time pondering, I decided that she would get a letter back from "Father Christmas" that would try to provide a transition between him as a real person, and Christmas as a magical time. This is the letter I wrote:
I thought it was a great letter and one that would help her see he was not a real person but more the spirit of giving. I was quite proud of it at the time. Unfortunately it backfired and gave her a greater belief in Father Christmas than she had ever had before. Ironically though, that Christmas also brought a renewal in my own belief in Father Christmas, or at least in the spirit of Father Christmas.
That Christmas was the last I spent with my wife. Less than six weeks later cancer had taken her from us. But that Christmas, something magical happened. With little money having spent the previous couple of years not working while looking after my wife and children full-time, Christmas was looking to be very frugal. Then three days before Christmas there was a knock at the door and there was the principal from my children's school. Unbeknown to us the school staff and the parents association had taken up a collection for our family. It had started with just a handful of parents that knew us well, but everyone had wanted to be involved. The principal's car was loaded full of presents for our children. I stood there on the doorstep weeping. Even typing this now, eight years later, the memory of that day and that act brings moisture to my eyes. It made that Christmas special for us in so many ways.
Since that Christmas, with school, visa issues and unemployment, there has only been one Christmas that I have actually been working. Each Christmas promised to be a difficult one, but each year since that first Christmas, Santa has come to our aid. Each year help has come from different sources. Some years I have not known where it came from, but came it did. And every year I am taken aback at the thoughtful generosity of others. Unsought and unexpected, it has surprised me each year.
Some may tell you Father Christmas is not real, a lie that we should not tell our children. But for our family, he is very real.
If you find yourself in need at Christmas, I hope that there will also be a Santa that comes to your aid. If you are one who has the blessing of abundance, I hope that you will reach out and make Santa a reality for another. Whether you help someone in a small or large way, know that it is through people like you that the magic of Christmas and the reality of Father Christmas can live on in the lives of those struggling.
I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas this year, especially all the Father Christmases out there. Thank you for all you do.
In the Christian world it seems to be one of the most widespread ethical dilemmas existing. On the one hand we are telling our children not to lie and that God does not like it. Then on the other hand we are lying to our children over one of the most sacred times in the Christian calendar. We spend years as a parent building the belief in this mysterious figure only for some day to face the prospect of admitting to our children we have been lying all these years.
These days Christmas for many seems to have become one big commercial enterprise. Stores stock up on Christmas goods earlier and earlier each year. Advertising hits us, especially our kids, on what is the latest 'must have' toy or gadget. And given we have taught our kids to believe in Santa, they expect Santa to deliver, whether we can afford it or not. And yet we all want our children to feel the magic we did as kids.
So what should we do? Should we debunk Santa, possibly breaking our children's hearts in the process? Do we lose the magic of the occasion? Or do we continue in the time honored lying, our own parents taught us?
I remember when my oldest, who had just turned 9 years old at the time, faced the question of the reality of Santa. We had gentle broken the news to her that there was no Santa but she refused to believe us. So, with the faith of a 9 year old, she wrote to Santa asking if he was true, what his real name was and if she could see him. She sealed the letter up and asked her mother to send it. When my wife shared the letter with me that evening, I was at a loss as to what I should do. After some time pondering, I decided that she would get a letter back from "Father Christmas" that would try to provide a transition between him as a real person, and Christmas as a magical time. This is the letter I wrote:
Dear MoyraThank you for your wonderful letter and that you believe in me. It is one of the wonders of childhood that children are able to believe in the magic of Christmas. We all lose something when we can no longer believe in the magic of life.My real name is not important and people call me by different names all over the world. Besides being called Father Christmas, many call me Santa Claus, or Saint Nicholas, in English. The original St Nicholas lived many hundreds of years ago and the story is told of a poor man who had three daughters. In those days when a young woman got married the family had to provide something of value, called a dowry. The better the dowry the better the chances of a young woman finding a good husband. If the family were unable to pay a dowry then the young woman was likely to be sold to become a slave. It is said that on three occasions St Nicholas left bags of gold to use as dowries for these poor man’s daughters. Some say it was gold balls that were left and often oranges are left for children representing the gold balls.This began a custom of giving gifts to children, which has continued until today. As Father Christmas I help carry on that tradition at Christmas time. All over the world children look forward to receiving something special at this time of year. Of course not all children get presents at Christmas because it is a time we especially remember the gift God gave in sending His son, Jesus Christ to us, and there are many families in different parts of the world who do not believe in Jesus being the Son of God.As for seeing me, no one ever really sees me as a person. The only way to see me is to see the spirit of Christmas in giving something of yourself to others. That way when you look in the mirror at yourself you will see a little of me. The more you give the more of me you will see when you look at yourself.I hope that you enjoy the things you receive this Christmas but most important that you remember the gift Jesus gave you a long time ago.Be good until next Christmas.YoursSanta
I thought it was a great letter and one that would help her see he was not a real person but more the spirit of giving. I was quite proud of it at the time. Unfortunately it backfired and gave her a greater belief in Father Christmas than she had ever had before. Ironically though, that Christmas also brought a renewal in my own belief in Father Christmas, or at least in the spirit of Father Christmas.
That Christmas was the last I spent with my wife. Less than six weeks later cancer had taken her from us. But that Christmas, something magical happened. With little money having spent the previous couple of years not working while looking after my wife and children full-time, Christmas was looking to be very frugal. Then three days before Christmas there was a knock at the door and there was the principal from my children's school. Unbeknown to us the school staff and the parents association had taken up a collection for our family. It had started with just a handful of parents that knew us well, but everyone had wanted to be involved. The principal's car was loaded full of presents for our children. I stood there on the doorstep weeping. Even typing this now, eight years later, the memory of that day and that act brings moisture to my eyes. It made that Christmas special for us in so many ways.
Since that Christmas, with school, visa issues and unemployment, there has only been one Christmas that I have actually been working. Each Christmas promised to be a difficult one, but each year since that first Christmas, Santa has come to our aid. Each year help has come from different sources. Some years I have not known where it came from, but came it did. And every year I am taken aback at the thoughtful generosity of others. Unsought and unexpected, it has surprised me each year.
Some may tell you Father Christmas is not real, a lie that we should not tell our children. But for our family, he is very real.
If you find yourself in need at Christmas, I hope that there will also be a Santa that comes to your aid. If you are one who has the blessing of abundance, I hope that you will reach out and make Santa a reality for another. Whether you help someone in a small or large way, know that it is through people like you that the magic of Christmas and the reality of Father Christmas can live on in the lives of those struggling.
I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas this year, especially all the Father Christmases out there. Thank you for all you do.
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