By Kate Willoughby Hall, CEO of Richmondmom.com and not yet ready to let go of Santa.
He: “Mom, I’m really having a hard time. I really want to believe there’s a Santa, but I just can’t make myself believe it. . .”
Me (internally): No no no this isn’t happening. Especially in front of your little brother and sister. You’re eight years old. It’s not time yet.
“Honey, there are some things that just don’t seem possible, but you just have to make yourself believe. I know it doesn’t make sense but. . .”
He: “I know mom, but really HOW does he get all the way around the world with all those presents in one night? I mean with the time zones and everything I just don’t get it!”
I always knew this day would come. I had even tried to reach back into my memory bank and try to remember when it was that I had stopped believing, and when (surely years later) I actually told my parents that I no longer believed.
We’d been careful. Oh so careful never to talk about this topic, but it was on our minds. He’s reading at the seventh-grade level and has a pretty strong analytical side, and the logistics of old St. Nick’s annual trip had just gotten the better of him. Plus all the store ads with all the toys: why did they send those to parents in the newspaper instead right to the North Pole where Santa could peruse all the goods before he loaded up his sleigh? Parents didn’t need to know about all of these groovy toys until it came time for birthdays!
Me (struggling, hopefully not externally as much as internally): “Sweetie, you just have to trust me on this one.”
He: “OK mom. But it’s really hard to keep believing.”
Me: “It is, honey. It sure is.”
I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph.–Shirley Temple, Halliwell’s Filmgoer’s Companion
About Kate Hall
I was about his age when I stopped believing.
My mom did this great thing and pulled me aside, and told me the truth. She explained that even though she and Daddy were Santa to us, if I wanted I could be an 'elf' because it was important that my brothers still got to have that magic feeling of Christmas. I remember one year I helped put presents under the tree and I ate a few bites out of the cookies left out. I helped write a note back to my brother who had written to Santa. It became very important to me that they got to experience Santa as long as they could. Because I was throwing all my effort into making sure they still believed, I think they may even have held out longer than I did.
I'm not sure if it will work for Kid1, but I think most kids old enough to question realize the importance of Christmas magic.
Thank you for sharing this experience. Both of my children still believer, but I have often wondered what I will do once my oldest no longer believes. Thanks for this great idea!!
I guess I feel like it's okay to stop believing in the reality of Santa.
Have you read him the letter to Virginia: http://www.newseum.org/yesvirginia/
PS. We are talk about lying and Santa and the magic of Christmas on Late Enough today, too! But more like Do you lie and why or why not? Most people aren't fans of me calling it a lie. Oops.
Wow! My son is 7 and he is in full-believe mode. I pray I can get this year and maybe one more out of him.
I think back to when I stopped believing… I was actually 10. And no… I did not live in a bubble. My parents went to GREAT LENGTHS to keep me believing. My dad would go outside my window and shake his set of sleigh bells.
No matter when they stop believing all that matters is that the magic of Christams continues! Merry Christmas!