A few days ago, I tried to burst the Santa Myth to my almost eleven-year-old—only he didn’t want to buy it.
I showed him one of my previous articles about being Santa.
He crossed his arms in disbelief, pushing my computer away, saying that I couldn’t possibly be Santa.
He numbered off the ways: different wrapping paper, awesome gifts, and Santa’s handwriting is way different than mine.
I’m sure it sounds as if he was playing me, but, nope, he wanted to keep believing.
Once upon a time, I adored the Santa myth, and now I feel as if I am officially done with the commercialization of this holiday, but never the magic.
I feel a little bit like the bad mama for wanting to burst the myth, but I think that part of being a parent is telling the truth to our kids.
I love how my son still wants to believe in magic in a world that’s filled with so much insta-gratification.
And yet, I am not being true to my guide as a parent by feeding the Santa myth.
So I’ve been looking for a way to blend these two juxtaposing actions together: Magic plus Christmas doesn’t have to include commercialization under the name of Santa’s omnipresent powers.
Magic plus Christmas involves the omnipotent love of our community and of our world. How can we embody the joy and compassion of gift-giving?
As always, it starts with each one of us.
For me, that meant bursting the Santa myth even if my son doesn’t want to hear it.
I’ve decided to do the simplest solution: Show; don’t tell.
Wrap Santa’s gifts in my style of paper (recycled paper bags decorated with paint and glitter), and don’t buy the different Santa paper (printed with a lot nasty chemicals).
Write the from Santa’s in my handwriting, not the fake penmanship of loops and bubble hearts that I always added to Santa’s “gifts.”
Leave the receipts for the gifts on the counter.
I’ll wait for that moment—in between drinking hot cocoa and eating bagels—when his eyes will light up with the awe-ha, having finally gotten the myth.
Author: Jessie Wright
Editor: Renee Picard
Image: Wikimedia Commons