As the youngest of five children, and with a semi-large age gap between me and my next closest sibling, I was never given the option to believe in Santa. I was told at a very young age, 'Santa isn't real, mom and dad buy all the presents and wrap them. No man comes down our chimney. And absolutely no bearded guy with rosy red cheeks lives in the North Pole with his reindeer and elves who make all the toys for good girls and boys.'
That was that, because that was fact.
I never got in a fight over whether or not he was or wasn't real.
I never spoiled it for friends.
I just accepted that was the truth.
When we had our first child I had a slight panic. What are we going to tell her? Am I going to go all out? Will I force my husband to dress up as Santa because I had a lack in "the magic" of it all and want everything over-the-top for her?
She was four and half months old her first Christmas and could give two flying Fudgsicles whether or not she received a gift from jolly St. Nicholas.
Fast forward to when she and her younger sister could actually grasp the concept and I was in a mood.
A mood that said, I never believed and I'm not bitter about it.
A mood that said, it seems pretty unfair that 'this guy' gives one kid a Barbie deluxe, extraordinaire, mega house and another kid a slinky.
A mood that said, if we lie to them about this will they believe us when we tell them x, y, and z?!
So I told my husband, we're not doing it. We're not doing 'the whole Santa thing."
That year I researched the origin of Santa and read about a man who was generous to boys and girls by filling their shoes (that they placed outside their homes) with little treats and trinkets.
THAT is something I can get behind - a man who generously gave anonymously.
That year our church told us about filling shoeboxes with gifts to send to foreign countries.
We filled shoeboxes.
The next year our small group went to our local mall where trees held tags with kids names, ages, and gift requests.
My heart was drawn to "blue jeans" for a 15 year old. "Snow pants" for a 12 year old. "A button up shirt for a job interview" for a 17 year old.
These little loves were asking for such practical items.
While the rest of our small group wanted to buy Legos, dolls, and other toys, I convinced them that at least one kid we picked was getting blue jeans!
The following year our church started something called Merry Market.
The church members bought new gifts for newborns on up. Volunteers set it up like a store. Then they provided childcare while the parents "shopped" [everything is free] and wrapped gifts for their kids.
I love that it gave dignity to the parent to be the one who is providing said gift(s).
So, here's the deal, the spirit of Santa is giving.
Santa is your neighbor who buys gifts for his niece and nephews because his sister is a single mom.
Santa is the grandparent who never sees their grandchildren but sends gifts every year anyway.
Santa is that person at your local Walmart who pays off layaways every year.
Santa is the volunteer who sings Christmas carols at their local Senior Living Home.
Santa is every single person who has given to Toys for Tots, Operation Christmas Child, Merry Market, and any other organization or event that provides gifts to people of all ages.
Santa is every single person who gives anything during the holiday season.
So, Santa might not have a white beard, or wear a red and white suit, or have a reindeer named Rudolph.
But...
Santa is real.
Santa is you.
Santa is me.
Santa is solely the sweet spirit of giving.
May your holidays be merry and bright,
Santa [a.k.a. Nicole]
