In Santa Claus, that is. I don’t remember how old I was, but I remember the exact moment like it was yesterday. It was after the photos below were taken, and most of these were taken in 1957 and 1958. Just look at the glee on my face as I see my new doll carriage! I don’t look big enough to push it properly, do I? I remember the Christmas my sister and I got matching Patty PlayPal dolls, they were great. The next photo is my sister and I with our grandfather. Our grandparents played a huge role on Christmas Day. As if all the presents from Santa and my parents weren’t enough, the package parade would start anew when my grandparents came over. Talk about overload! We were quite spoiled as children.

I remember Christmas as being magical. The glittering Christmas tree with all the tinsel and bright lights. Baking cookies and decorating them, then leaving some out for Santa to munch on. It hardly seemed like I could stand to wait for Christmas Day. Finally the day arrived and we awoke to find a tree bursting with presents beneath it. After all the packages were opened, I would always put everything back under the tree to be taken out and played with or admired for the next three or four days. It was quite the ritual to sit under the tree and draw out my presents one by one to give each one individual attention.

My sister popped my Santa Claus bubble. One Christmas she came to me the week before and told me that Mom & Dad were really Santa and that she had seen what we were getting in their closet. She took me to their closet and opened the door. Sure enough, there were two beautiful canopy doll beds. I was crushed. No Santa? No magical sleigh with eight reindeer flying through the sky? OH NO! For years I resented her for telling me. But really, I can’t put the blame on her. She was older and wiser than I. It was just a matter of time before I would recognize my Mom’s handwriting on the thank you note from Santa for the cookies, or some child at school would laugh at me for still believing.

I often wonder in today’s modern world how any child can really believe in Santa past the age of two! They all seem to be so grown up much earlier than we were. Such a shame. It was fun while it lasted and I look back on those years with very fond memories.

I honestly can’t remember how old I was, but the exact same thing happened to me <sigh> with 4 older siblings I doubt they let me believe for to long….<grin>.
Morgan(age7)started questioning a lot more this year. And Taylor (age9)was pestering me to no end as to whether I was Santa, then she said the kids at school said there was no Santa.
I think she has figured it out but doesn’t want to stop believing.
With the way the world is now I want them to have the magic of Christmas for as long as possible…
Christmas morning they a woke to an email from Santa (let me tell you finding an email address with Santa in the name was no mean feat!)
Morgan was once again convinced, and her big sister was terribly confused.
That alone was worth staying up till 1 am trying to figure things out.
So Virginia, there still is a Santa for some kids
<chuckle>