My son announced to his Kindergarten teacher that Santa wasn’t real. I got a distressed email from the teacher, asking me to make sure that he doesn’t tell any of the other children, lest their Christmas magic be ruined.
I fully understood, and I didn’t want to ruin the fun for the other kids, so I had a talk with my son about playing along with the Santa Claus game. I certainly didn’t want to be the Scrooge! And our family is big on Christmas–the tree goes up right after Halloween!
But it got me to thinking. A lot of these kids were being raised without any belief in God, and in public school, even mentioning God is frowned upon. Yet there is such a protective instinct around the idea of Santa, wanting this little ones to hold onto the possibility of Santa for just a couple more years…
Santa… He knows when you’re naughty or nice. He loves you, and he knows the desires of your heart. He adores children and he wants you to be good. He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. You aren’t alone when there is Santa Claus.
The parents know that one day their children will no longer believe in Santa, but they don’t want to tear that away. Not yet.
I didn’t feel the need to tell my son that Santa was real. As Christians, the sparkle and mystery doesn’t vanish after the tree comes down. Christmas lasts all year when you believe in God. Miracles, angels, God dipping down and touching Earth… We live in the sparkle of Christmas magic every single day!
Merry Christmas to all of you! May your Christmas be filled with sparkle and the possibility of miracles around every corner.
A Christmas Bonus
When Millie’s boss asks her to work over Christmas, she’s hesitant to give him any more overtime. She has plans for her life that include quitting this job and starting her own photography business, and she promises herself to quit by New Years.
Want a peak into A Christmas Bonus? Sure you do…
“So, Millie says she’d like to stay,” Andrew announced.
“Good.” Louise shot her a smile. “Do you like fruitcake, Millie?”
“I think so.” Mille sank into a seat next to her boss.
“Me, too…” Louise disappeared into the fridge, her voice meandering out from the chilly depths. “Except I always hate the fruit in it. So I just make the cake. But the cake is rather dry.”
“It’s more like a Christmas cracker,” Andrew murmured, and Millie repressed a laugh.
The dense, dry confection that landed with a heavy thud on the tabletop looked nothing like the fruitcake she’d seen in the past.
“Guests first.” Louise announced cheerfully, and when Millie shot Andrew a “help me” look, he pointed under the table.
“Give it to the dog,” he mouthed.
The dog? So far, Millie hadn’t seen a dog in the house, and when she slowly raised the plastic tablecloth to peer under the table, she was met with the biggest canine face she’d ever seen in her life. Stifling a yelp of shock, she turned her ashen face towards Andrew.
“That’s Edgar,” Andrew said.
He nodded. “Get used to him.” When she turned her attention to the plate deposited in front of her, Andrew leaned in and murmured in her ear. “Thanks for coming, by the way.”
Patty Froese writes from Alberta, Canada, where the winters are long and cold. This suits her just fine, since it gives her plenty of time to write and she can enjoy the snow from the right side of the window. She has her degree in English Literature and has written in other genres, but she particularly enjoys writing romance.
Patty also writes for Harlequin Love Inspired under the name Patricia Johns. http://pattyfroese.com