I Still Believe

To this day, I still remember asking the question to my parents – and their answer. When Twin Brother Mark and I started second grade, the evidence started to stack up, and things just didn’t really make any sense. Sure, I’d heard whispers in the hallways (rumors, actually), but no one came right out and spoke the unspeakable – not even Down the Street Bully Brad. ‘Guess he was like the rest of us kids when it came to Santa. 

He too still wanted to believe. 

What kid wouldn’t want to think Santa was real? A jolly guy flying around in a magical sleigh pulled by eight reindeer, giving away presents to all the little girls and boys in the entire world, and doing it in just one night! But the closer we got to Christmas that year, the more my eight-year-old brain thought about it, and to be honest, I just couldn’t square that circle. The evidence was stacking up against him being real.

The reindeer encounter.

First, not one of those reindeer out at the Christmas farm we visited when I was seven could fly. Second, the one called Rudoph had a black nose – not red – and it didn’t even glow. Third, when I asked Farmer Fred if they could fly, he smiled back and said, “Not these. Only Santa’s can fly.” And finally, as Mom was feeding a baby reindeer, she asked how long they live. Farmer Fred replied, “Oh, ‘bout twenty years or so.” Now, how could that be? Rudoph and his crew had been flying around the world for hundreds of years. When I was seven, I had no reason to doubt his answer, but a year later I was questioning what he had said.

Santa at the mall?            

Even though I’d seen Santa every year at the mall downtown, sat on his lap, pulled his beard to see if it was real, told him what I wanted him to bring me for Christmas, and said I’d been mostly good all year, I started to question if he was real or not. As we went back to school after the Thanksgiving break, I thought How could Santa spend a week at our mall when he was supposed to be back at the North Pole getting ready for his trip around the world? And then there was the list.

Naughty or nice list.

The closer we got to Christmas, the more our parents reminded us of the list, the ultimate way our parents kept us kids in line starting in November. The following phrase was said by one of our parents almost daily the closer we got to Christmas, “Be nice. You boys don’t want to end up on Santa’s naughty list.” Why they never included The Sister in that warning I didn’t understand. It wasn’t until years later that I realized that we boys were somewhat unruly growing up. Still, we were never as bad as Down the Street Bully Brad. If there ever was a kid that should forever be on Santa’s naughty list, Bully Brad was that kid. And yet, somehow every year he got presents instead of that infamous lump of coal for being bad.

The question.

It was a week before Christmas, and the more I thought about it, the more things just didn’t add up. I was eight and a half and was finally sure I knew the truth, so one night after dinner, I asked my parents the question, “I’ve been wondering. Is Santa real?”

The answer.

My parents exchanged a knowing look. It was as if they’d been expecting the question for a long time. It was Dad who finally gave the answer wrapped up in a smile, “Son, when you stop believing in Santa, that’s when he stops bringing you gifts.” I never asked the question again, and I’ve never stopped believing in Santa. And each year there are presents under our tree. 

Nowadays it’s even easier to believe in Santa. I work in a kindergarten classroom where fifteen Littles remind me about the magic of Santa almost daily. They also believe in the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. As a kid believing in both was easy. As an adult I know the truth. 

The Easter Bunny.

I thought this story was over until The Wife read it. She looked up and said, “So you don’t believe in the Easter Bunny? Well, I guess he won’t bring you your Easter basket next year.”

So, right here, right now I’ll make this statement, “Yes, I still believe in the Easter Bunny. And I really love all those chocolate Cadbury eggs he brings each year.”