I love Christmas time. I love everything about Christmas. The only thing I didn’t always love about Christmas was the below freezing temperatures and a foot of snow on the ground. Thankfully moving to Charleston helped take care of that. And I Love Santa!
I was recently discussing with a friend about what Santa did at their house. Did Santa wrap? Did he bring the big gifts? Did you still get presents from your parents? I love hearing the different ways that we all grew up and our different traditions.
You see, I love Santa. And before you roll your eyes, it isn’t the gifts. I honestly love the magic of believing. I love the excitement. To me, Santa doesn’t mean getting the latest and greatest.
I am the oldest of four, and when I came to know the truth behind the big guy in red, I would help my mom wrap. I loved this (not the actual wrapping part, turns out I’m a terrible wrapper!) A couple of years later my sister joined. This became our thing. We would stay up late on Christmas Eve and help Santa wrap presents for my younger siblings. We loved still “believing” for the sake of the younger ones. When my youngest sister got older and stopped believing in Santa, she actually told my mom not to tell us because we all had so much fun pretending.
That is magic. That is family. That is love. That is the spirit of giving.
For me, it was never about the gifts. It was never about who’s gift cost more. It was spending the day in our pajamas. It was drinking not chocolate. It was watching a Christmas Story on repeat (#ThanksTBS).
Santa and money don’t have to be so related. My oldest is five and I hope he continues believing in the magic. I hope he looks back at his childhood with the same fondness I do. I love Santa!
