finding out who Santa REALLY is...

The oldest of my nieces and nephews is my nine year-old niece, Saige. She cornered me on Christmas Eve at my Mom's house.

"Ang, is there really a Santa Clause?"
"Well, what do you think?"
"No."
"Why do you think that?"
"My Mom said so."

I admit I wasn't totally surprised as she'd tried to ask the same question the week before. So, I'd been trying desperately to think of how to answer her. On the drive up to my parents I thought of several different ways I could answer her. I knew she desperately wanted to believe that there was a fat old man who lived at the North Pole with his magic elves and reindeer who could deliver presents to all the children in the entire world. I wanted her to keep believing as well. I wanted her to maintain her innocence for as long as possible, to believe in the magic of Santa and all that he represents.

I remembered a story in a book I read once, about a child asking his Aunt the same question, if she believed in Santa. She, being much wiser than I, saw a flag blowing in the distance and asked him what it meant to him, what he thought of when he saw the flag. And went on to explain to him how Santa is like the flag of Christmas, how it represents an ideal.

I tried to use the same explanation for Saige, but I could see in her eyes that it was simply not working. I decided I had to get real with Saige, and I told her something personal, something real, something from ME.

I told her how just a few nights earlier I'd come home from a dinner party with some friends, and how on my door step was a bag with some presents inside. All the tags on the presents said the same thing, "To: Ang, From: Santa". I told her how inside were two wrapped gifts and a gift bag, and that inside the gift bag were several gift cards for gas and groceries and a few other fun things. I explained that not having a job right now was really scary for me and I wasn't sure how I was going to get money to pay all my bills.

I told her that somewhere there was a someone who knew I was going through a hard time and who cared about me and wanted to help me. Not only did they want to help, but they didn't want me to know who was helping me. I told her THAT is what Santa represented. How just as she believed that the flag stood for freedom, that Santa represented love and giving and all that is good inside of people.

Then I explained that maybe Santa wasn't a fat man who lived with elves at the North Pole, but that Santa was real. Santa might be her Mom or Dad, Grandma or Grandpa, or it might even be her. That as long as there was people in the world who were loving and kind and thoughtful that Santa would exist.

I have no idea who my Santa was this Christmas, but I know that I'm grateful. How I pray that He who is the Giver of ALL things will bless them for their sacrifice, for their kindness, for their love. So, Santa, whoever you are, thank you, from both me and from Saige.

There's just something about finding out who Santa REALLY is.