When I became 6 years old, I began to question the realness of Santa Claus from little things people said. I, also, could not imagine my parents lying to me about this. I was confused until one Christmas…
“It is time for you kids to hop in bed and go to sleep or Santa will not come!” my parents told my younger brother, Buddy, and me. It is always so difficult to fall asleep on Christmas Eve. I tried to stay awake, because I longed to see Santa Claus. Is he real or not? I awoke Christmas morning; in fact, I awoke before anyone. I listened for noise in the kitchen. No one was up yet so I quietly slipped out of bed and slowly crept to the family room to look for the gifts under the Christmas tree.
I stopped in my tracks and quickly took in a breath of air! The tree appeared to be just as it was the day before. Nothing! No gifts! I thought that maybe Santa had not arrived yet. He is busy, but it was daylight. No, that was not it. My next thought was that my brother and I did not earn our gifts by being good kids. I tried everyday, but I must not have been good enough. Holding my head down, I slowly walked back to bed. As I lay there, I cried a little as I thought the whole situation over.
Shortly, I heard my parents brewing coffee and preparing breakfast. I heard my Mom tell my Dad that she was going to put the gifts under the tree, while he went to milk the cows at my grandparent’s farm. “What?” I questioned my Mom’s statement. I heard my Dad leave in his rumbling truck and my Mom drag a huge box into the family room. I snuck out of bed and tiptoed to the family room for the second time that morning. I witness my Mom setting wrapped gifts under the tree. “Hmmmm.” I went back to bed to think some more.
I concluded that there is no Santa Claus, because Santa Claus puts gifts under the tree, not my parents. Where did the gifts come from? I decided the gifts were from my parents. I pondered this for a few minutes. I thought, “Wow, it certainly was nice of them!” I felt happy to know they cared so much. Should I tell my parents that I knew? Should I tell my brother? No, absolutely not. Why should I ruin all the fun my parents were having? And why should I ruin it all for my brother? I decided to play along with their little scheme. After all it was going to be a great Christmas Day!
A few Christmases later my brother was 6 years old and I was 8 years old. His peers at school told him that there was no Santa Claus. He was devastated. At supper my parents told both of us there is no Santa Claus. Buddy was crying. My parents looked at me questioningly. I said, “I know! I had known for a long time.” “What? How did you find out? And why didn’t you share that information with us?” I told them the whole story. I am a mature 8 years old and not a baby anymore!
They were both quite surprised! My Dad said laughingly, “Well, I guess the joke has been on us the whole time! We thought you didn’t know, but we were the ones who didn’t know!”
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