I have had some really memorable Christmases in my short life. Magic Christmases where Santa came while we were out with mom and dad, so THEY couldn’t have been Santa, Santa was real. I discovered the truth about Santa when I was seven and I admit, it came as a shock and I may or may not have sat on the basement floor holding “Santa’s wrapping paper” in my hands whiled I shed some tears – not many – just some.
Over the years my parents still had “Santa Claus”, but mother tried many ways to keep Christmas focused on the Savior. For instance, the few years we lived in Pennsylvania, mom had my Grandad build a manger, and we piled our gifts around a wooden manger – sans tinseled tree. After a few years with the manger, we convinced our mother that having a tree doesn’t take Christ out of Christmas.
Although, I will admit the manger did have a long term affect on me, so… well done mom.
When I became an adult, I thought it was kinda hokey that parents would tell their kids some heavy set, bearded white guy snuck into homes to put out gifts and helped himself to your food.
Why can’t you just tell your kids if they are rotten, “mom isn’t going to get you anything for Christmas….so be good to your mom and dad.” I’m pretty sure that would have worked just as well for me.
Then today, when I opened the mail box, the idea came to me, “Christ is real and there is only ONE Christ….there are loads of Santa Clauses.”
My Grandad is Santa Claus – year round – all of his grandkids know what I’m talking about. For no reason at all, you could get a card in the mail box or some thing you are in need of “from Santa/Grandad” in July…Making it Christmas in July.
My older sister, as long as I’ve known her, has been a lover of Christmas. I would once lovingly call her a “Christmas Freak.”
Scene: San Diego, 1989 summer time and Bing Crosby’s ‘White Christmas’ playing on the record player.
Repeat scene every year for the rest of life.
The year she and I lived in Utah at the same time, I decided to stay in Utah and work over the holidays and she went to visit her in-laws for Christmas. I was feeling a bit lonely before she left and after she had gone and I was alone, I discovered several gifts that she left behind for me – so I would know that I was loved.
She was my Santa Claus that year.
My mother’s parents, The Grand Whites, are my second set of parents. They have been my “Santa Claus” countless times and for no reason at all, other than they felt like it.
We give, because we celebrate the life of the Savior – who gave His life so we could live forever – and I believe that the “Santa Clauses” in our life is any person who gives on behalf of the Savior.
This year, I’m playing Santa Claus, on behalf of the Savior. My good husband doesn’t complain when I tell him about another gift I purchased for someone who I thought needed something. I’m grateful I am in a position to give this year. May we all look for more opportunities to give rather than to expect gifts.
This is who Santa Claus really is.
But Tim Allen , YOU make a great cinema Santa and I happen to enjoy Buddy the Elf too.