Remembering Santa

Since Christmas has now come and gone, I wanted to remember the weeks of preparation, the sweat and tears that goes into one day out of the year.

I remember when I first found out that Santa is not real. I was in 5Th grade (a little old, no?). I knew that the Santa's at the mall weren't real, they were his helpers. But I also knew that there was no way my parents could get up in the middle of the night and lug all those gifts under the tree by themselves! I surely would have heard them. And where would they have hidden the gifts during the year? I was a very good snoop, and would have found the gifts, which I never did.

Now my parents did give us gifts along with Santa. That was cool. As I grew older, I thought, No way does one man have the room or the time for delivering all those gifts. The it hit me...He only delivers what we find in our stockings! How simple! Our parents must do the shopping for Santa, and he just delivers the little stuff. I never talked about it with my parents; I didn't want them to know that I knew the truth.

So, one bright and early Christmas morning, as I got my stocking down and opened the gifts, I received something that I had been wanting for a very long time....a Koosh Ball. Remember those? Did I spell it right?

"Mom!" I exclaimed. "Look!"

"I know!" she said with a smile "I got the last one at the store"


My heart sank. They were right.....all my friends who said Santa isn't real were right. I pulled her aside and asked her, once and for all, if he was real. She looked at me, and as her little girl grew up just a little more, she said "no"

I wasn't sad. I also didn't feel more grown up for knowing the truth.