I’m quickly approaching 40 and a skeptic by nature, but I believe in Santa.
As a child who grew up in poverty with narcissistic addicted parents, who sometimes went without food or heat, who sometimes lived in motels or in other people’s homes, Christmas was always hit or miss. But I was nurtured by the magic. There was always some kind of magic under the tree. Sometimes it was a secondhand coat that I really needed. Sometimes it was a trendy toy gifted by a generous stranger. I KNOW my grandmother and aunts had a big hand in making sure I had something, even though I suspect they often fell into the trap of sending cash. Many of my gifts though, the toys and the books and the best of them, came from strangers – Toys for Tots, Operation giving tree, Kiwanis club.
Now, as an adult, I have a tremendous desire to pay it forward, so 16 years ago, my husband and I started a Christmas tradition. I still remember the first time we filled a cart for Toys for Tots. And then the next year, when we filled two. I remember the time when Jason discovered Dinosaur Train – “That’s GENIUS!” I saw little boy Jason on his face and fell more in love. We add toys we loved as kids. We add toys I wanted but never had. We add new things that look so cool. We add some of the same things every year – the big bin of safari animals and the big bin of dinosaurs; the doll set with all the accessories, the multipack of nurf guns. The third year, the kid checking us out at toys-r-us said “Your kids are lucky! I wish you were my mom and dad.” We weren’t THAT much older than him and cracked up. I often cry at some point during the adventure.
I know this isn’t a practical tradition for most people and I’m not telling you this to brag. Let me make it clear – I do this just as much for me as for Toys for Tots. This is a big part of my own healing. But it brings me to a more recent component of the tradition that I think IS practical for many families and has shaped the Santa narrative in our house.
Now that we have our own children, each year they get to pick a toy for a child their own age. Because Santa needs help. Our mission to help Santa ends at the mall (where there is a Toys for Tots box conveniently located). My kids give the gifts they picked out to Santa for him to deliver to the kids who need them. The magic of this gesture surely would be just as real if it were a dollar store gift or a toy chosen from their collection that they no longer play with.
The message in our house is clear. Santa is magic, but he doesn’t do it alone. He does it with the help of families like ours and organizations like Toys for Tots. Those trees with the little notes, those are to help Santa too. We don’t talk about which presents in our house come from Santa and the magic is amplified when we talk about Santa delivering the gifts we picked out.
The year I got the cool globe I didn’t ask for, just like the year I got the book I did, I didn’t know who helped Santa – was it Grandmother or Toys for Tots? Does it matter? I know to this day that it was Santa and I will never stop believing. And when my own children ask me if Santa is real, I’ll tell them yes. And hopefully by helping Santa grow in their own hearts, they too will always believe in the Santa inside themselves and the magic of Christmas will never fade.
The Mommy Mines 