Feeling a little nostalgic today...a little sad, as I am missing my husband so much.
So, as I was frantically making my final Christmas shopping list today, trying to figure out how on earth I was going to afford the special gifts my dudes asked the big man for, I stopped for a minute and thought about the day that I found out for sure that "Santa" - as in the big man in the red suit wasn't "real". It was snowy, cold and very close to Christmas. I was 12 years old. Yep, you read it right...12. My mom and I were shopping and we pulled into the lot at TRU. (Now, anyone who knows me, knows that Christmas is BIG TIME in my life. Most of you also know that that strong belief comes from my mom.) So, suspecting the worst, I casually asked her what we were doing. She looked at me kind of funny and said we were picking up the toys for my younger brother and sister. I sat there for a long moment and then said, "So I guess that means there really isn't a Santa Claus." She honestly looked like someone stabbed her right in the heart. Immediately, of course, she started crying and apologizing. I told her that I suspected, but that I was just never quite positive about the whole thing. Logically, it didn't make any sense to me any longer, but in my heart, I felt a belief as strong as when I was little and meeting Santa for the first time. My mom, after collecting herself, told me something that I will always remember and pass along to as many people as will listen.
My mom told me that although the portly man in the red suit with the sleigh full of toys might be fictional, the feeling of Santa, certainly was not. She said that even when she and my dad were in the most dire financial times, they were always able provide a special Christmas for our family. That there may have been no money for toys and huge Christmas dinner, but that somehow on Christmas morning our tree was bursting with gifts and our hearts were full. And in that way, just as I did at 12 years old, I know that there is a Santa Claus.
Merry Christmas!
