DAY TWENTY-FIVE - 25 November 2012
There are so many ways in which my seven year old is a mini adult, it's scary. She thinks like one, analyzes like one, can synthesize like one, perceives the world like one, reads like one, has attitude like one, and then some. I know we've pushed her and expected more of her during her life because she is capable of so much, but I also know we've tried very hard to allow her to be a child instead of a very small 40 year old woman. In some ways we've been very successful; she has an 8 pm bedtime, sleeps with a nightlight, and cuddles with stuffed animals as she drifts off to sleep. In other areas, well, we haven't been able to keep that internal ancient from rearing its omnipotent head as she speaks. However, as any good adult does, Eibhlin has tried to convince herself of many things that are not real-- including Santa Claus.
As a first grader, she told me it was absolutely impossible for Santa to exist, that there is no such magic that would allow his annual travel to occur. She told me that there is no way Santa could be real, because if he was real, then all children would have presents under their tree each year and, well, that's not the case. She told me that reindeer are just caribou, that elves are imagined, and that surely it must be the parents who gave presents and ate the cookies left out with care. To this I replied, "Is that what you believe?", to which she answered, "Yes." I said, "Okay," she gave me a wise look and smiled, and that was the end of that.
As a second grader, she remained mute on the subject, silent in response to questions about Santa and what he would bring her. She remained a passive receiver of gifts under the tree and candy canes from the Santa at Cabela's. She made lists for us and for her grandparents-- but put nothing on one for Santa. Unconscious omission? Perhaps, though I think it more likely that she just wasn't making a scene about the fact that Santa was us, we are him, and really, we know what's on the list anyway.
As a third grader, Eibhlin has a renewed passion for Mr. Claus and his occupation. She has written several letters, none of which I have been allowed to read, and mailed them with great care and extra stamps. She wants to see him at Cabela's, leave for him some cookies, and she told me that she even asked in one of her letters if he preferred soy milk to cow's milk so that we could be sure to get which one he prefers. Today, she most adamantly said, " I DO BELIEVE IN SANTA CLAUS." She does believe. She does want to believe. And for this season, those two sentiments are one and the same.
I promised myself I would never lie to my children about Santa and I haven't yet. If they ask me point blank for the truth, I give it to them. However, if they walk the line, dabble in the gray area of hope versus reality, then who am I to kick them in the knees? There is plenty of time for our children to grow up and away from the hearts of childhood and the imagination of youth. If she needs to believe just this one last year- needs it so much that she is convincing herself day after day after day that he is real and he loves her and all of the other children in the world- then that is enough for me. I love that she is so much an adult that a part of her realizes that this belief in Saint Nick is one of the last strongholds in childhood, that after Santa goes then so does so much more.
I am thankful that she is wise enough to have rekindled her own hope and belief, that she wants it badly enough to work for it, that she isn't ready to give up her giggles and snuggles and littleness just yet. I am not sure how much longer she will allow herself to be so young and naive, but for the few more days or weeks or minutes that she is embracing her child-self, I will smile and thank her for being who she is, regardless of how old she feels that day.
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