It's that time of year when Christmas carols play in stores and colorful lights are strung onto homes. Smell the hot chocolate and peppermint scent of special "limited edition" flavors that will be gone by January, and hear words such as eggnog, stockings, Baby Jesus, mistletoe, and snow.
When the holiday season comes around, children are on their best behavior in anticipation for Old Saint Nick to leave them some gifts. As they run and play in excitement for wrapped packages to appear underneath the Christmas tree at night, the festive air of the holidays can't help but put a smile on everyone's face. However, as we grow older, mature, and leave behind childish fantasies, what part of ourselves realizes that Santa Claus is just a made up character and what part secretly wishes to believe in him again?
We eventually figure out that Kris Kringle is actually Mom or Dad placing the presents by the fireplace, and it does not take away from the atmosphere of festivities, but some of the wonder is lost in the process. Papa Noel no longer knows exactly what we want as private desires are no longer written on lists, rather kept in our minds, hoping someone will get it right. Having to explicitly state exactly what we want takes away from the glamour and awe in Grandfather Frost, or leaves emotions of disappointment when close family and friends do not get the right gift. In spite of it being "the thought that counts," which is true, sometimes it's sad to realize that once you know the truth, there is no going back to fully believing.
So share how you feel, do you prefer knowing the truth behind Mr. Red, or would you rather revert back to a younger state of mind, one that knew flying reindeer and singing elves live at the North Pole as they work their magic for the coming holiday? Maybe I lied throughout this entire post, and I'll end up on the naughty list this year for accusing Santa of being a phony?
