Yes, Sedona, There is a Santa Claus!

I remember my older half-brother coming home from school, when I was very young, telling all of us, "Santa's not real! It's really daddy who does everything!" My mother looked at my older half-sister and me, both of us nearly in tears. This is the transaction between my mother and Lee:

Mom: "Who is usually the first one to go to bed on Christmas Eve?"

Lee: "Daddy is. He said we always wake him up too early on Christmas morning."

Mom: "Who is the last one out of bed on Christmas morning?"

Lee: "Well, Daddy is."

Mom looked at my sister and me, then back at Lee. "So, what makes you think your daddy is pretending to be Santa?"

Lee: "Gee, I guess there really IS a Santa!"

All those years I spent with no children of my own, but taking care of others' children, taught me much about how I wanted to raise my own. If I ever had one of my own. I'd seen children's hopes and dreams die, when the truth of Santa Claus was revealed to them. I decided that the best way to avoid that was to never let my children even HEAR about Santa. That is the route I took with Sedona. At first.

Since I was a single mom, my church always put my daughter's name on the Toys-for-Tots list every year. I always managed to get her one or two things. Others in my family would make sure she had a toy or two from them, as well. But, ever since her first Christmas, there were always "extra" toys under the tree. Those I almost never wrapped, and never put a card. I didn't know how to explain to her who those were from. But I was always grateful. Those extras were always nicer than anything anyone in my family could afford. She didn't think to ask who they were from. And Santa was never mentioned. From the time she was an infant, it became tradition to read the story of the birth of Christ at Christmas time. I always instilled in her mind what Christmas was REALLY about. I always explained to her that we give to each other, because Christ gave so much to us. And we should be thankful.

Sedona started preschool in a private Christian school. The church we attended had a daycare and the private school. I was working two jobs, so could afford the tuition, then. I was surprised, when she came home from THIS school, talking about Santa Claus! Since so many kids in her class believed, the teachers went along with it. Her preschool teacher, Mrs. Graven, told me that believing in Santa brings hope to many kids. They learn more about giving from the story of ole Kris Kringle. Because the original man the story is based on was a toy-maker, who made and gave toys to the children of his village whose parents couldn't afford them. It was Santa, according to Sedona, who'd put those extra things under the tree, every year.

The year Sedona was in second grade, things began to change for us. I was down to one job, and could barely afford the tuition. I knew that would be her last year in that school. I couldn't afford to get her much for Christmas, that year. We talked about it. Her question to me was, "Have I been good enough, this year, for Santa to bring me anything?" I didn't know how to answer that one. I had no extra money. I could only afford dollar store items, that year.

It just so happened that members of our church had gotten together with the more well-to-do parents from the school. Our names had been put on their charity list. While Sedona was asleep, "all snug in her bed", and I was putting my meager gifts under our tiny tree, there came a knock on the door. It was after eleven o'clock, and I could NOT figure out, who would be knocking on my door THAT late, on Christmas Eve!

When I answered, there stood my little girl's second-grade teacher, Mrs. Klaas, and a couple of women from the Lady's Auxiliary. Bearing gifts and food boxes. I stood there, and cried. They came in and helped me set everything up, then after many hugs, tears, and prayer, they left to go home to their families.

Sedona awoke on that crisp, cold Idaho Christmas morning, to half the room filled with nice, expensive clothes, and toys. And food on the counter for Christmas Dinner. "I remember hearing somebody in the house, last night, Mommy," she said, smiling. "It was Santa!" That was the year I, myself, began to believe in Santa Claus. Not the man, but the spirit of him. And that was the year I decided, that, as long as she believed, there would always be gifts under the tree from Santa.

This year, my little girl is nine, and in the fourth grade. Many kids in her class don't believe in Santa Claus. But many still do. She began asking me questions about the reality of Santa. All I would say is, "As long as you believe in him, he will bring you gifts."

Many have questioned my allowing her to still believe. I have one answer for them all: Look at all Sedona and I have been through. Look at all we have lost. DO NOT expect me to take away what little magic is left in her life!

I think back to the famous editorial that appeared in The New York Sun, in 1897. An eight-year-old girl named Virginia wrote to the paper, asking the question, "Is there a Santa Claus?"

Who answered her letter? Francis P. Church, editorial writer for The New York Sun, AND a Baptist preacher! And what was his answer to little Virginia?

"Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished."

So, I answer my little girl: "Yes, Sedona, there IS a Santa Claus."