We were actually “the parents” that told our two year old that there is no Santa Claus. This was not out of religious conviction, but out of necessity. When Lilli was two, she would wake up crying and pleading “Santa Claus not coming tonight!” She was terrified that a big fat man in a red suit was going to invade our house through the chimney. To make matters worse, it was July. So, I told her.
She is now five and the topic of conversation in her little kindergarten class was over the reality of Santa Clause. Lilli, who is very confident in most things, began coming home and asking me on a daily basis if Santa Clause was really not real. I wish I could have heard the conversations with her little friends. Not wanting to confuse her more (since I had already spilled the beans) we talked about St. Nick and the joy of giving in the name of Jesus. She seemed satisfied.
Then, at church, it happened. A large joyful man with a full white beard and a glimmer in his eye approached us by the coffee stand. He even donned a Christmas vest and tiny little spectacles. Lilli tugged at my sleeve and whispered “He is not Santa is he?” The man then reached out, shook my hand, smiled and said, “We are so proud of you and want to help your family go to Uganda.” As he pulled his hand away a noticed several large green bills in my hand. I looked back up and he was gone. I then looked down at Lilli who was grinning ear to ear. I replied, “I am not sure.”
Thanks for supporting us! Thanks for making Christmas so special this year! And thank you St. Nick, wherever you are. tj