I knew that it would happen someday - so I began laying the ground work VERY early - to help me more than him... let me explain: Guy(DS) like every child wholeheartedly believed in Santa Claus and seeing it through his eyes was so much more magical than anything I ever experienced as a child (well almost - there's the Chatty Cathy Christmas - but that's another post!) Anyway I did all the things I could to make it magical and special - the usual cookies & milk of course - but we left reindeer food (those pesky reindeers always made "a mess" {first year mom spilt some & Guy noticed how messy they were} - well those mess' continued for a long time!!!) and Santa left "footprints" in the house and so many other things - it was truly a magical time for him and me.
But all along I knew he would eventually find out the truth - so I instilled that "everyone is Santa" and as long as you "believe in truth & goodness - there will always be a Santa - no matter how old you get".
Sure enough - one year he put two & two together and was devastated & actually MAD at ME when I told him Santa wasn't real. BUT I guess the groundwork actually worked, because after the initial denial and anger - he realized what I said & meant - which somehow softened the blow. To this day he reminds ME that Santa does exist.
Having said this - when I saw this on another blog, I had to place it on mine & tell you my story.
"I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma...I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that! My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her 'world-famous' cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true!!!!!! Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" She snorted..."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes memad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go. "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second 'world-famous' cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's. I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but NEVER had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill,wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he just didn't have a good warm coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good warm winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again and wished me a Merry Christmas.That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa ALWAYS insisted on secrecy! Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered,"get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open!!!! Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: 'ridiculous'! Santa WAS alive and well, and WE were on HIS team!!!
I STILL have Grandma's Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $29.95.
May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!
~Author Unknown
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