It's happened many times this Christmas season. A well meaning adult will come up to my four year old in a public space and gleefully ask him what Santa Clause/Father Christmas is bringing him this year. And each and every time, my son cocks his head to side and clearly announces, "Santa isn't REAL."
The reactions vary - there's shock, confusion, and even a bit of bemusement. Yes, Santa isn't real, but my four year old isn't supposed to know that. We've taught him to say "Santa isn't real at MY house," when other children are around, keeping the excitement alive for his friends and classmates. Despite that, plenty of Christmas time threads on mommy forums insist that parents like us are ruining Christmas, not only for our own children but for theirs.
Even still, my four year old knows all about Santa and has asked for an Elf on the Shelf. (That's a no from me, son.) Most of the time he's content to muse aloud on the logistics of chimneys or sing a ditty about how he is the Elf on the Shelf. As his mother, I can attest to his mess making skills, so it's quite possible he is that notorious elf. ;) In our house, we read Christmas books about the nativity, about Santa, Father Christmas, and St. Nicholas. We listen to Christmas carols and ditties, and the four year old's current favorite headgear is a Santa hat.
We aren't anti-Santa; we love magic and wonder.
But, we don't believe in Santa in our house.
I didn't grow up with Santa being a "thing" in my house, but I was always intrigued by the idea. It seemed both magical and creepy--an old elf breaking into houses to leave gifts in stockings. I loved the stories, myths, and history behind the legend. However, it wasn't until I became a mom that I learned how ingrained the Santa myth is in Christmas legend. Some parents grow rabid at the thought that their children will discover the truth before middle school, while others concoct elaborate schemes to prove that Santa is indeed real. Even still, the work other parents endure is not my business, and I marvel over their creativity and dedication.
It's Christmas morning that makes me not choose Santa.
It's the abundance of gifts and heavily laden stockings all labeled "from Santa" that makes me shy away from this particular tradition. I want my children to know that gifts come from people. Real, live people with real jobs, who have worked many hours to be able to purchase those gifts for them. I want my children to understand that presents are not just wrapped in wrapping paper, but in love, sacrifice, and grace.
Most of all, I want my children to understand that presents under the tree is not a reward for being good; they are not better than children with little or nothing.
This morning, my four year old was cheerfully chatting about his Christmas presents as I rushed him out the door for school.
"I have LOADS of presents, Mommy," he sang out happily. He's four, an age that loves nothing more than to unwrap anything. Our families are an ocean and country away again this year, so we've wrapped every small thing in an effort to lessen the homesickness.
"Do you know that some children don't have presents, L?"
"Yes, because they are naughty!"
No. No. No.
"No, not because they are naughty! Not at all! You have presents because Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, Papa, and Grammy have all worked really hard and are lucky enough to have money left over to buy you presents. Some children aren't so lucky. Some children have parents and grandparents who love them so much, who work so hard, but they still can't buy them presents."
"It's not because they're naughty?"
My four year old looked confused. He had swallowed enough of the Santa myth to associate behavior with largess. To think it was possible for a child to be good or bad enough to influence the number or mere existence of gifts under the tree.
It's easy in our first world culture to associate morality with abundance. If we are good, if we work hard, if we are generous, then we will have all the things. It's tempting to think that; it's tempting to teach that. It's reassuring to tell ourselves that our wise choices are the only factors in our comfortable existences.
But that's not true. My four year old doesn't have Christmas presents this year because he is good. He doesn't get to tear up wrapping paper on the morning of the 25th because of his parents or grandparents' goodness. In religious speak, we would say that he is blessed, but I'm not sure if I like the implications of that term either.
"L, did you know that Mommy didn't always have Christmas presents when she was a little girl?"
"Because you were naughty?"
Sigh. He was still stuck on that idea.
"No, no. Because even though Mommy's parents worked really, really hard, sometimes there wasn't enough extra left over. Did you know that Mommy has three sisters and four brothers? You only have one sister. It's easier to have presents when you only have one sister."
My four year old's eyes widened as he nodded in understanding.
"We should give presents to kids who don't have presents," he said thoughtfully. "But not my toys--those are mine."
I pushed the idea further.
"And when someone is cold, we should give that person a coat. And when someone is hungry, we should give that person a meal. And if someone needs a place to sleep, we should give them a bed."
"But not MY bed!"
"Yes, it's okay to sleep on the floor if someone needs your bed. We should give people the things that we want, too. That's what generosity means."
At that thought, my four year old lead the conversation back to the first Christmas and asked me about "Beth-le-hem" in the adorable pseudo-English accent he's picked up.
I know that the legend of Santa Clause is not the root of the idea that goodness and abundance are interwoven. I don't think that parents who tell their children that Santa Clause is coming to bring them gifts are doing anything but striving to excite and delight their children. But for me, it's important that my children understand implicitly that what they are given comes from generosity and abundance.
...That they have not earned it.
...That real money and work have purchased or created their gifts.
...That those with less are not less.
...That we should give out of our excess.
...That we should give until we are uncomfortable.
I have so many more lessons to teach my children. I want them to gaze with wonder at Christmas lights, trees, and bright wrapping paper, all while looking to give to those around them. I don't ever want my children to think that they've earned their gifts by being good, or that others have less because they were not good. So we will read the story of St. Nicholas, and search out ways to give to others, all while acknowledging that we do not deserve our own comfortable existence.
The reactions vary - there's shock, confusion, and even a bit of bemusement. Yes, Santa isn't real, but my four year old isn't supposed to know that. We've taught him to say "Santa isn't real at MY house," when other children are around, keeping the excitement alive for his friends and classmates. Despite that, plenty of Christmas time threads on mommy forums insist that parents like us are ruining Christmas, not only for our own children but for theirs.
Even still, my four year old knows all about Santa and has asked for an Elf on the Shelf. (That's a no from me, son.) Most of the time he's content to muse aloud on the logistics of chimneys or sing a ditty about how he is the Elf on the Shelf. As his mother, I can attest to his mess making skills, so it's quite possible he is that notorious elf. ;) In our house, we read Christmas books about the nativity, about Santa, Father Christmas, and St. Nicholas. We listen to Christmas carols and ditties, and the four year old's current favorite headgear is a Santa hat.
We aren't anti-Santa; we love magic and wonder.
But, we don't believe in Santa in our house.
I didn't grow up with Santa being a "thing" in my house, but I was always intrigued by the idea. It seemed both magical and creepy--an old elf breaking into houses to leave gifts in stockings. I loved the stories, myths, and history behind the legend. However, it wasn't until I became a mom that I learned how ingrained the Santa myth is in Christmas legend. Some parents grow rabid at the thought that their children will discover the truth before middle school, while others concoct elaborate schemes to prove that Santa is indeed real. Even still, the work other parents endure is not my business, and I marvel over their creativity and dedication.
It's Christmas morning that makes me not choose Santa.
It's the abundance of gifts and heavily laden stockings all labeled "from Santa" that makes me shy away from this particular tradition. I want my children to know that gifts come from people. Real, live people with real jobs, who have worked many hours to be able to purchase those gifts for them. I want my children to understand that presents are not just wrapped in wrapping paper, but in love, sacrifice, and grace.
Most of all, I want my children to understand that presents under the tree is not a reward for being good; they are not better than children with little or nothing.
This morning, my four year old was cheerfully chatting about his Christmas presents as I rushed him out the door for school.
"I have LOADS of presents, Mommy," he sang out happily. He's four, an age that loves nothing more than to unwrap anything. Our families are an ocean and country away again this year, so we've wrapped every small thing in an effort to lessen the homesickness.
"Do you know that some children don't have presents, L?"
"Yes, because they are naughty!"
No. No. No.
"No, not because they are naughty! Not at all! You have presents because Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, Papa, and Grammy have all worked really hard and are lucky enough to have money left over to buy you presents. Some children aren't so lucky. Some children have parents and grandparents who love them so much, who work so hard, but they still can't buy them presents."
"It's not because they're naughty?"
My four year old looked confused. He had swallowed enough of the Santa myth to associate behavior with largess. To think it was possible for a child to be good or bad enough to influence the number or mere existence of gifts under the tree.
It's easy in our first world culture to associate morality with abundance. If we are good, if we work hard, if we are generous, then we will have all the things. It's tempting to think that; it's tempting to teach that. It's reassuring to tell ourselves that our wise choices are the only factors in our comfortable existences.
But that's not true. My four year old doesn't have Christmas presents this year because he is good. He doesn't get to tear up wrapping paper on the morning of the 25th because of his parents or grandparents' goodness. In religious speak, we would say that he is blessed, but I'm not sure if I like the implications of that term either.
"L, did you know that Mommy didn't always have Christmas presents when she was a little girl?"
"Because you were naughty?"
Sigh. He was still stuck on that idea.
"No, no. Because even though Mommy's parents worked really, really hard, sometimes there wasn't enough extra left over. Did you know that Mommy has three sisters and four brothers? You only have one sister. It's easier to have presents when you only have one sister."
My four year old's eyes widened as he nodded in understanding.
"We should give presents to kids who don't have presents," he said thoughtfully. "But not my toys--those are mine."
I pushed the idea further.
"And when someone is cold, we should give that person a coat. And when someone is hungry, we should give that person a meal. And if someone needs a place to sleep, we should give them a bed."
"But not MY bed!"
"Yes, it's okay to sleep on the floor if someone needs your bed. We should give people the things that we want, too. That's what generosity means."
At that thought, my four year old lead the conversation back to the first Christmas and asked me about "Beth-le-hem" in the adorable pseudo-English accent he's picked up.
I know that the legend of Santa Clause is not the root of the idea that goodness and abundance are interwoven. I don't think that parents who tell their children that Santa Clause is coming to bring them gifts are doing anything but striving to excite and delight their children. But for me, it's important that my children understand implicitly that what they are given comes from generosity and abundance.
...That they have not earned it.
...That real money and work have purchased or created their gifts.
...That those with less are not less.
...That we should give out of our excess.
...That we should give until we are uncomfortable.
I have so many more lessons to teach my children. I want them to gaze with wonder at Christmas lights, trees, and bright wrapping paper, all while looking to give to those around them. I don't ever want my children to think that they've earned their gifts by being good, or that others have less because they were not good. So we will read the story of St. Nicholas, and search out ways to give to others, all while acknowledging that we do not deserve our own comfortable existence.
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