Years ago a sad reality slammed me. The sprouts put out cookies and a note for Santa before bed. After we tucked them in, I was shocked to see my StudHusband go straight for the cookies without missing a beat. “Those are for Santa” were my literal first thoughts. Thankfully, I burst out laughing before I said such silliness outloud. But it struck me then and there – there really is not a Santa from the North Pole! I was Santa!! We were Santa together, my hubby and I! I now was given the delightful hat, passed down from my parents to me, of being Santa to the precious little kiddos sleeping soundly in their beds.
I have friends that think it’s a horrible lie to bestow on their kids that there is a Santa and others that don’t celebrate Christmas at all. That’s fine. I can completely understand their perspectives – it is quite a commercialized day. But, we choose to just go with it. Just enjoy it for the fun that it is. The truth is, it’s magical to receive presents. It’s scream-happy worthy. It’s just plain giggles inducing fun!
And we, as parents, get to practice what St. Nick inspired so long ago – giving in secret. For we are the Santas – and someday the all-mighty Santa hat will be passed on to our children to carry on and that’s when selfless giving, modeled by Christ first, St Nick, and parents around the world, gets to be what they take with them into future Christmases.
I really would love to tell my Sprouts that I was the one that saved up for months to buy them both their new bikes, games, craft supplies, and toys…but instead, I write, ‘From Santa”. My right hand is not telling my left hand what it’s doing in secret.
I, for one, am blessed by the countless selfless years of giving my parents did for me each Christmas day, never taking credit for what they gave and I am honored to carry the torch.