I don’t
remember how old I was when the magic of Santa was almost destroyed. My father took me to a shopping
mall to visit the jolly old elf. I
remember sitting on his lap and seeing a shiny piece of scotch tape stretched
across his white mustache.
On the way
home in the car, Dad asked if I had told Santa what I wanted for
Christmas. I told him I hadn’t which
prompted him to ask me why.
“Dad,” I said,
“That wasn’t the real Santa.”
“What makes
you say that honey?” he asked.
Pointing to
the fact that Santa had scotch tape on his mustache brought an awful silence
from the man who only wanted me to believe in the childhood joy of Christmas.
In the days
following my visit to this “fake” Santa, neither one of us broached the subject.
Weeks later it
was finally Christmas Eve and, like all parents, mine urged me to hit the silks
so Santa would come and bring my presents.
I obeyed, but I knew Santa was a grown-up hoax.
My bedroom
door opened into the hallway. There was
an opening in the ceiling to the attic just a few feet from my door.
When I awoke
on Christmas morning, there, in front of my door was a chair (one of those that
have a set of steps that can be lowered and raised) that Dad had carefully
placed underneath the opening.
I looked
up to see that the cover to the opening had been moved to one side. As I looked down at the chair, it became
clear that Santa had come through the attic (we didn’t have a fireplace).
There on the
seat of the chair, Dad had carefully arranged a dusting of dirt that outlined
where a large boot had been.
In that
instant, I knew that Santa was real and the guy in the suit at the shopping
mall never entered my mind again. The
magic of St. Nick was real again. It has
been so ever since.
My father has
been gone since 2006. I will never
forget what my father did that Christmas.
Because of him I still believe.
From the
Associated Press comes
this heartening news: Year after
year, Santa Claus survives the scoffers and the Scrooges and the 6-year-old
playground skeptics. He endures belittling commercials that portray him
shopping at Target or taking directions from an iPhone. He shrugs off scolds
who say his bagful of toys overshadows the reason for the season.
Two-thirds of
parents with kids under eighteen say Santa's an important part of their
celebrations this year. Moms, especially, have a soft spot for the man in red—71
percent of them say he's important, and that's a big jump from 58 percent just
five years ago.
His overall
popularity is up slightly from an AP-AOL poll in 2006, before the recession
hit. In these bleaker times of homes lost to foreclosure and parents sweating
out their next paychecks, the poll shows Santa riding high with families both
wealthy and poor.
In the poll,
the median age when adults said they outgrew Santa was 8. But Santa needn't
worry. They'll come back someday…when they're parents.
What a great father!!
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