Recently I read an email from a friend which brought up the Santa & kids telling other kids topic. Now, at this point, this is not an issue for us with Teeny. She doesn't even understand the idea of Santa let alone question his existence. It did get me thinking though-how did I come to decide that Santa didn't really exist? I can't seem to remember how I found out, but I do know I was sure not to tell my sister. I remember telling my parents very matter of factly that I no longer believed that Santa was real and I also remember them asking me if I was willing to take the chance of not getting any gifts on Christmas morning, extending my weakened belief by at least another year.
One year, a student in my fourth grade who was no longer a "believer" decided to start telling the other children in class, all fervent believers, that his mom had told him Santa was just a story and it was their parents that bought their gifts. This bit of knowledge left me with 20 something very upset children. Damage control was not easy-but I basically told them the story of Saint Nicholas and that I for one still believe, so of course he had to be real. The next day I got a phone call from the mother of my anti Santa student telling me how terrible it was that I perpetuate a lie and that all children deserve the truth. She felt fourth grade was way too old to still think Santa was real. WHAT!?!?!?!
As far as I'm concerned, there is no reason a child should have to stop believing at any age. In the world we live in, what harm can be done by allowing a child to believe in goodness, love and generosity? I hope Teeny believes in Santa for as long as her faith allows. Even though logic tells me Santa is only a story, a little part of me still holds onto the hope that maybe, just maybe Santa does exist. I would like to think that there is someone out there who is pure goodness, even as an adult. It may be naive, but I prefer to think of it as keeping the Christmas spirit alive!
