On Belief Ownership and the Nature of Magic...

The holidays are upon us, yet again, and so is the Santa discussion. Last year, you may remember, I shared how our daughter (then 8) stated “Mom, Santa must be real because you are my parents, you say he’s real, and you would never lie to me.”

http://sheruminates.blogspot.com/2006/12/on-lies-and-christmas-spirit.html

Her father and I ultimately let it drop after a particularly illuminating discussion I had with Cassie in the Target parking lot a few days before Christmas. A Santa belief related song played on our CD player and Cassie brought up the reality-of-Santa topic yet again. I felt ready. I had a plan. I put on my strategic therapist hat, and said something like, “Well, Cassie, you’re getting older now and beginning to understand that things are more complex than they seemed when you were a little girl…” She nodded; her superior big-girl identity clinging to this sign of her maturity and wisdom.

“You made that comment about how Dad and I wouldn’t lie to you, and I’ve been thinking about that. I do want to be honest with you. So, you must know by now that one man couldn’t possibly do all the work it would take to literally go into every child’s home with toys all in one night…”

“Yeah, that’s why he’s magic, Mom…” She rolls her eyes as she gives me the remedial Santa education I obviously missed or lost somewhere along the way.

“Right, magic… and, as you know, magic isn’t always straightforward and obvious. With magic, things might look one way but be an entirely different way…”

Her eyes widened with some distress.

“So,” I continued, “with Santa it may appear to littler kids that an actual man does all that work but older kids and grownups come to realize that the magic of Santa works everywhere and through everybody…” I’m so goooood, I thought; leading up to my ultimate explanation that we grownups essentially embody Santa and do his bidding…Which, I’ve come to realize is pretty danged true.

But then… “Mom,” she interrupts, “I just want to believe that Santa comes down the chimney, or through the door if we’re at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and delivers my presents. Let’s not complicate it, OK? You have your beliefs and I have mine.”

Alrighty then. “That’s fine Cassie,” I said. “You’re right. You need to come to your own conclusions about Santa.” Thank goodness I was finally released from the “you would never lie to me” burden. So, last Christmas carried on as a full-fledged Santa Christmas.

Now this new year is upon us and Cassie just turned 9. Recently, we discussed God and religion and she made some comment about how it’s silly that people believe in God. I said, “Well, you believe in Santa.”

“Yeah, mom, but I’ve seen proof that Santa exists. I mean, it’s not like you buy all the presents and put them under the tree…”

Imagine, if you will, the kind of facial expression one, who does not lie well, might have on one’s face when one is confronted directly with the truth. I had it. She, sweet, trusting Cassie, missed it… or chose to ignore it. Santa, so far, is safe this Christmas; in a girl who will believe what she wants to believe. At least she’s honest about it.