Santa brings the Christmas spirit

Every Christmas morning I jump out of bed in my flannel onesie and scamper upstairs to feast my eyes on the heavenly array of gifts scattered beneath my family’s Christmas tree.

I revel in the thought of Santa hand-picking each individually wrapped gift for my enjoyment. Some poor naive souls have come to the wild conclusion that these gifts have been placed underneath the tree by my parents.

I laugh in these poor fools faces for their idiotic conclusion that Santa Claus does not exist.

First, how would any one person’s parents have time to travel around the world to every child’s home? No matter how magical your parents may appear in your eyes, none of them possess the magic powers capable of time travel. Only Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and the other members of the Magical Council have been granted powers by Father Time.

Secondly, lets face it, parents are clueless. No individual’s parents knows their child well enough to pick out their Christmas gifts. I do not write my Christmas list “Dear Lee & Donna.”

I might as well write my list to Honey Boo Boo and Sugar Bear because they have about as much clue as my parents in getting me what I want for Christmas.

Only Santa knows my true self and what toys will ensure me the utmost happiness on Christmas.

Third, I do not see men dressing up as random people’s parents listening to what kids want for Christmas, and if they do someone needs to call dateline because there is a creeper on the loose. Santa is who people idolize dressing up as the man in red and white to listen to the wishes of children of all ages.

Some may say that there is no proof to establish that Santa is in fact real. To these naysayers I recommend watching their TV for one commercial break between the months of November to December and they will see that Santa is not only real, but has donated his time to endorse many of America’s fine products this holiday season.

If that is not sufficient proof, go to where you can live chat with an elf or read stories written by Santa himself.

After all this proof I will offer my own personal testimony of the sight I awake to every Christmas morning. I have personally witnessed Santa’s boot prints outside my fireplace, cookies missing from a plate I have laid out for Santa, a note from Santa saying “thank you for the cookies,” and finally sleigh prints on my deck surrounded by carrots that have been chewed by reindeer.

No matter your stance on the Santa issue, I would like to extend to all kith and kin a Yuletide cheer that you stay happy and healthy in the upcoming year.


Too much emphasis on superficial

Every year for Christmas, my siblings and I asked Santa Claus for that “extra special” gift that my parents wouldn’t get us. In the third grade, I asked for the Lego® Harry Potter castle.

I wanted that overpriced castle so badly that year. I talked about it all the time and disregarded my mother’s disheartened comments about availability because I knew that Santa would come through.

Santa did not come through. A week before Christmas I found out that Santa was, in fact, dear old mom and dad who could not find a single castle left in the Twin Cities area.

This is what Santa has become. Not a symbol of joy and wonder, but a man with deep pocket books and an advertising ploy promoting Chevrolet and Best Buy.

Santa means one thing to people: presents. Presents on presents on presents.

The reality is that once you realize that Santa is a fictional character, you realize that Christmas is more than presents.

Christmas is about family and faith.

Santa has nothing to do with family—until you discover that Santa is your parents. And has only a vague and forgotten origin as the 13th century Saint Nicholas.

Maybe I’ve lost my childhood spirit. Children do see the joy and wonder, I know I did, but was the eight years worth the let down? No. Am I happier now that my parents aren’t lying to me anymore? Yes.

We need to stop lying to kids about a creepy old man who breaks into the house every year, steals cookies and then strolls along to do your neighbor’s too.

The happier thought would actually be that your parents went the extra length to get that special gift under the tree. That is what happened.

As I recently watched Christmas Vacation on ABC Family, I mulled over the idea of Santa.

Cousin Eddy’s kids believe that Santa forgets them every year or that they weren’t good enough to make the “nice list” because their parents don’t have enough money to buy them presents.

Think about all the children out there who never get a chance to believe in Santa Claus because Santa “forgets” them every year. It’s not fair.

It’s also not fair for people like my cousin who are afraid of Santa and have to keep a secret from his friends and cousins from age four.

Parents need to skip the charade all together, once and for all. Maybe then Christmas will become less about Black Friday shopping and more about the true meaning.

The Grinch even said that Christmas “doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps…means a little bit more.”