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LTP: 12/16/11

Nine days ’til Christmas! The excitement is palpable in my house. MiniB is especially excited because Santa will be coming. She is getting close to the age of disbelieving, so I treasure the opportunity to play Santa again. He was truly the most magical part of my childhood. One of my best childhood memories was the year I heard him come to deliver presents. I was about the same age as MiniB, and sleeping lightly because I couldn’t wait for Christmas morning. We lived in an apartment with no fireplace, so I had been wondering how Santa would get into the house. I finally decided that he would probably use the back door, because it would be silly to come in the front door where everyone on the street could see him. So, imagine my amazement when I was awakened by the stealthy sound of our back door opening in the middle of the night. My eyes shot open, and then I immediately closed them again, in case he figured out I was awake and left. I made myself not move, so I would look as asleep as possible. I may have even forgotten to breathe.

I don’t think I heard anything else, maybe some rustling in the living room, and eventually I fell back to sleep. The next morning, waking up and seeing what he had brought me seemed even more special because I had heard him come into the house. For some reason, I never told my parents about it. I think I was afraid that if I did, the spell would be broken. It was my own special secret.

So, Persephoneers, do you have any magical Santa memories? Or any other special moments that made you believe, with all your heart and soul, that magic was real?

I also remember the year my best friend Jennifer was soooo excited because Santa had forgotten his hat in her living room.

By [E]SaraB

Glass artisan by day, blogger by night (and sometimes vice versa). SaraB has three kids, three pets, one husband and a bizarre sense of humor. Her glass pendants can be found at www.etsy.com/shop/AngryOwlStudio if you're interested in checking it out.

5 replies on “LTP: 12/16/11”

I kinda still believe in Santa? like I know, but, my brain likes to work overtime trying to think of loophole ways certain aspects of the Santa thing could be possible. And I guess the older I get the more I cling to how NECESSARY the things Santa represents – generosity, kind behavior, belief in unlikely things – are, really, just for getting through the year.

Me too. There is a place in my mind that believes that if I ever really needed a Christmas miracle, Santa would be there. And I insist that no one person in our house can fill all the stockings, so everyone gets at least one surprise. It keeps the feeling alive. :)

My dad LOVED playing Santa for us when we were kids.  According to my mom, he was the one who wrapped all the gifts and made sure they were perfectly placed under the tree.  The reason we always had a big breakfast on Christmas morning?  Dad couldn’t sleep the night before either, so he got everything ready to go after we went to bed.  When my youngest brother John got to the age of disbelief (somewhere around 8, he seriously held out), Dad went out of his way to arrange a “Santa Surprise.”  We had all piled into the car for midnight mass and his beeper went off.  He had just started a stressful new job and it required the technological advances of a BEEPER.  Anyway, he went back in to call work while we all sat in the car and Mom complained about how his job was interfering with our lives.

Fast forward 2.5 hours.  It’s 1:30 in the morning and we’re all tired.  We get into the living room and all the presents are under the tree.  John was so psyched and even Erik and I were a little confused about how it happened.  Later mom explained that SHE had called dad from inside the house and it was all a big set up to keep John believing for just ONE more year.  We opened presents at 2 am and got to stay up until 4:30 eating breakfast and listening to John talk about how, ” He wasn’t SURE before, but he was sure now.”

I can’t think of any moments that made me believe. I figured the Santa thing out pretty quickly when my cousin and I asked for the same doll one Christmas and she got it but I didn’t. My mom tried to explain that Santa went alphabetically and must have run out. Since her name started with a B and mine with a C I figured this was incredibly short-sighted on Santa’s part. Also it seemed like a silly way to distribute gifts.

However I became super aware of preserving the magic for my little brother. One year when he was five he was starting to express some doubt in the whole Santa thing and it was just unacceptable to me. I stayed up late that night (easy to do on Christmas Eve) and around midnight I crept over to his bedroom and quietly shook some jingle bells just outside his door. The next morning he was super excited about having heard Santa the night before. At least he got a magical memory.

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