Mik's Christmas Past

Not every family "does" Santa, but my parents did it up big. My parents decorated every square inch of our small home on Thanksgiving weekend without fail. Every ornament had a story, and the walls were lined with nails which were empty three quarters of the year, but came alive with garlands and lights on the day usually referred to as Black Friday. It was anything but black in my house.

I was raised as an only child, and spoiled beyond measure. I had toys in my room, toys in the basement, toys in the garage.  Every year on my birthday I'd get more toys and some old toys would make their way to the attic.  And Christmas, well, not only did I get more stuff, but my dad video taped the entire process under hot lights.

Mind you, this was the 70's.  We had a tripod in the corner of the living room with our big old video camera set up with the spotlight on top, and no Christmas activities could begin until that contraption was up and running.  I'm not sure the neighbors appreciated that blinding light pouring out of our window at 5:30 in the morning, but who cared.

My parents did the Santa business up right.  Every time I began to doubt, they'd go just a little farther to keep the magic alive.  I don't remember what I ever got from Santa, besides fistfulls of M&M's and every year a new doll.  I'm sure there was more in my stockings but I don't remember. I'd honestly have to watch those movies to jog my memory about what I ever got for Christmas.

I do remember the year I caught them at like 1 in the morning, setting everything up from "Santa."
I was maybe - 11?  12?  And although I had always treasured the belief that Santa was real, I was touched by the care they were taking and the fun they were having - all in the name of making Christmas fun for lonely old me.  At the time, I remember thinking back on all the creative things they had done to convince me Santa was real.  Boot prints on the roof, "tape recorded" scufflings of Santa & elves using my name as they left me gifts, special letters in return for my letters to him - oh, they went all out.

I guess some kids freak out when they learn Santa isn't real.  Some kids feel betrayed, lied to.  Maybe I was wise beyond my years...everyone always told me that, but I think all 'only children' end up that way.  To me it was simple and sweet.  Something that brought my parents great joy - being sneaky and keeping that innocent secret.  What harm had it done me?  None.  I enjoyed it, appreciated it, and instead of freaking out, I did something I'm not sure many kids have done. I decided to participate.

The next year, I took some of my Christmas shopping money and bought stockings for my mom & dad and sprung for the big bucks at Things Remembered to glitter-glue their names on the cuffs (so my handwriting wouldn't betray my secret!).  I filled them with candy and trinkets, colognes and lotions etc.  Then I waited quietly in my room until long after they had planted their Santa Magic in the living room and gone to bed.  I walked down the far left edge of the hallway so it wouldn't squeek, and I planted my own Santa Magic.  It was so fun!  I felt naughty & nice all at the same time!  That Christmas was the hardest for me to wait for - I could barely sleep.  Just in anticipation of THEIR surprise in the morning.

Who knows what I got that Christmas.

I made my own memory - I did something for someone besides myself, for once, and I learned the joy in selfless giving!  I was still young enough to think I'd fool them, and not so wise to realize I'd forever alter their Santa fun by betraying that I knew their game...but we all got through it just fine.  And so a new tradition was born.

That's what Christmas is all about.  Or what it should be all about. Making memories - learning about giving, not receiving, and having fun as a family.

My experience with Santa was special to me, and as my own family grew, I purposed to create a similar experience for our kids. Greg's family didn't "do" Santa, so, it was something he slowly grew to enjoy. It's a bit harder for the parents - especially the dads, I think, because it's hard to watch your children fawn over gifts they don't give you credit for purchasing.

Greg had to learn the value of giving with no expectation of gratitude or acknowledgement, which is how God asks us to give. Our kids practiced faith in a tangible way, believing based not on sight, but the evidence and finding the gifts that they had hoped for in secret under the tree. On this blog, we'll talk more about how to use the concept of Santa as a faith lesson for both children and adults in future posts.

-- Mikayla Skolaski

The St. Nick Dilemma - Blog