Get this straight: I am not a Bah Humbugger. I love Christmas. It is probably my favorite holiday season. I love the tree, decorations, caroling (hymns as well as secular), food, movies (You gotta see Mr. Magoo’s Christmas), reindeer (especially Rudolph), poems (Yay “’twas the Night Before Christmas” which I memorized as a child), quality time with family and friends, and most of the standard Christmas traditions that we’re all familiar with. Except for one, that is: Santa.
Why don’t I love Santa? First, let me direct you to James Watkins’ top ten reasons Santa is not a good role model: http://www.jameswatkins.com/articles-2/the-twelve-sites-of-christmas/santa/
All humor aside, I want to address the question: What do parents do about “The Santa Question”? Amiable and compliant parents don’t even acknowledge this implied dilemma (probably being quite content to jump on the bandwagon and perpetuate the Santa Myth).
In contrast, being a hard-headed realist and also very opinionated, I consider this a topic for debate. But since I actually love the idea of Santa, I could soften the question from “Why don’t I love Santa?” to “Should parents tell their children that Santa is real?”
And since I believe this to be a deeply personal choice, I would narrow it down to: “Why I don’t believe in telling my children that Santa is real.”
Neither my brother, Larry, nor I remember ever believing that Santa is real. Somehow, our not-much-younger sister did—for a time—as borne out by the story my mom would relate of my very young brother running in with, “Mom! Donna thinks that Santa is real! We’ve got to tell her the truth!” to which my mom replied, “Ok. You do it.” Shamefaced, my brother returned to tell her he thought we could wait a while on that reveal.
From my perspective, rather than arguing in favor of telling a child that Santa is not real, it makes more sense to ask, “Why tell a child that a fictional character is real?”
For decades, as my Christian college students and I discussed topics having to do with parenting, I would throw out the question, “What lie do almost all American parents tell their children?” I will admit it; that discussion revealed that most students—whether raised Santa believers or never-Santas—had ended up in their college years with a neutral response to the choice their parents had made, whether to-tell or not-to-tell. And they were split—or some undecided—in what they thought they might choose to do as parents one day in the future.
But one student stands out as vehemently opposed to telling children that Santa really exists. When she found out that there wasn’t a real Santa, she felt betrayed by her parents, who had gone overboard to seal the Santa deal. Putting out cookies and milk and stockings and presents “From: Santa” wasn’t enough for them. Her dad would actually go on the roof armed with objects designed to simulate the clopping of reindeer hooves, the jingling of bells, and the metal-on-shingles sound of the sleigh as it landed and slid to a stop!
With the possible exception of that student’s example, I have always respected what other parents did—and other children believed—about Santa. That’s why our children were instructed not to spoil the fun for other kids. Also, every year at our co-op preschool, I loved to be the parent who arranged for a dear brother from church to play Santa.
So from our firm seat on the other side of the argument, what did my husband, Joe, and I tell our kids?
Actually, at first we told them nothing. Then, by the time our oldest was three or four, he had come to ask, “Why are there so many Santas?” That’s when we told him—and later his brother and sister—about a kind and loving man named St. Nicholas who had lived many years ago and loved to secretly deliver presents to the poor people of his town. We said that after he died, many men decided to dress up as St. Nicholas—now called Santa Claus—and also give out presents to encourage people to follow his example in being kind and generous, the way he was.
That same oldest child now has two sons of his own—ages 13 and 9. The younger still believes in Santa, and the older doesn’t seem to hold his parents responsible for any straying from the truth.
That’s why although Joe and I are adamant in our personal approach to the Santa dilemma, we have steadfastly restrained ourselves from giving any definitive answer when over the years either of the grandkids has questioned vastly improbable elements of the story.
After all, most parents don’t sit their children down one day, determined to pass off as true a story of someone who flies through the air (without benefit of plane) and lives with elves at the North Pole. Most of them do as Joe and I have done with José and David: We let our silence be taken for assent.
Note: If you’re dying to know my primary argument against supporting Santa as real, you can email me at: susan@susankingedits.com (but only if you promise to forgive me after reading it).