The year was 1961, and I was seven years old. It is my most distinct memory of meticulously surfing through the Sears Catalogue looking for that one special gift. Once discovered I would write a letter to Santa Claus to request the gift. When I found it, I was overjoyed; and then a somewhat stressed feeling followed because I was not certain I would meet the criterion of being nice over naughty. I did however emphatically plead my case in my letter to Santa that I would be very good in the following year if I should successfully receive the gift I desired.
The special gift that captured my heart that year was a Winchester Air Rifle. I had been envious of my friend who lived next door because he had an air rifle; so it seemed like the perfect gift for me to get over my jealousy. My mom told me that if I was exceptionally good from that moment on that Santa might overlook any of the naughty things I did throughout the year.
I can't remember if I had succeeded in being exceptionally nice or not but Christmas Eve came and I was very hopeful; so much so that I could not get to sleep. My bedroom was next to our living room where the decorated Christmas tree was. It was very late when I heard the TV turned off. I thought to myself that maybe once mom and dad went to bed I would hear Santa Claus and get a peek at the legend.
I crept over to the door of my bedroom and peeked out into the living room. Something was stirring; maybe it was Santa. Suddenly I was shocked to see my mom and dad placing unwrapped presents under the tree; and then, the present I had hoped for was taken out of a bag and leaned against the wall - the Winchester Air Rifle. I wasn't sure if I should shout with elation or cry. Something was not right and at first I couldn't fully process it. Then it came to me; Santa was not real.
Some Christians are adamant about not allowing there children to believe in Santa Claus. One verse of scripture that spoke to me as I was bringing up my children was 1 Corinthians 13:11:
"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man I put childish ways behind me."
In my opinion to believe in fairy tales such as Santa Claus for the first 6 or 7 years of one's life is no different from a parent who encourages their child that their teddy bear has feelings and needs to be constantly cuddled. As a parent I would become wrapped up in my children's childhood ways by cooing their teddy bears, and feeding their dolls and rocking them to sleep. But when my children became older they began to ignore their toy trucks, teddy bears and dolls, and moved on to different things that were more in tune with reality.
There is a time to be a child. I am not a child psychologist but it seems to me that believing in fairy tales helps children to develop their imaginations. The idea of Santa Claus is not a bad thing. It is based upon a Christian story about a monk who cared so much about the well-being of others that he gave freely to their needs; and thus, the legend about giving was born.
There is a time for children to discover the real truth about Santa Claus for sure. In my house we will enjoy the mystical part of Christmas with our grandchildren because they are not ready to fully grasp the full truth of Christ. They know of the birth of Jesus, but cannot fully comprehend what it really meant for Him to be born into the world. The day will soon come for each of them to put away these childish beliefs and ways and receive the fullness of God's truth into their lives.
Christmas blessings everyone,
-Leo
No comments:
Post a Comment