Ho Ho Ho or Boo Hoo Hoo

Seven years ago, upon the advice of a family member who said if we wanted our kids to trust us in the big things we shouldn’t lie about the little things, I broke the news to my six-year-old that Santa Claus wasn’t real.  She seemed to take it well.

The next year, however, she sadly admitted, “I wish I still believed in Santa.”  I decided then and there that I would let my children discover the truth about Santa when they were ready.

This doesn’t mean I actively lie to my kids.  I simply play the game and let them believe – the same as I do with the Tooth Fairy or when I eat their playdough cookies.

It’s not that hard to allow the fantasy without the fraud.  When they see Santa at the mall and ask, “Is that really Santa Claus?” I say, “No, that’s just someone dressed up like Santa.”  When they ask, “Does Santa really climb down chimneys?” I say, “No, there are lots of houses without chimneys – like ours.”  When they ask, “Is Santa real?”  I say, “What do you think?”  Then I praise them for their deductive reasoning, welcome them into the “grown up” world, and remind them to keep the secret so it stays fun for the little ones.

I don’t think allowing children the excitement and wonder of believing in something magical is a bad thing.  Of course, we make sure they understand the religious side of Christmas first and foremost – that we are celebrating the birth of our Savior, not Santa Claus.

But what’s really great about the Santa tradition is that it motivates adults to be selfless.  It’s a time when we think about bringing joy to others by giving anonymously, without expecting anything in return.

And that’s definitely a good thing.

Are You Ready?

Last weekend, with some careful planning and faithful babysitters, my husband and I attended three parties in two evenings.  All of them were enjoyable, and I got to brush up on my small talk questions and answers.  One of my favourites:  “Are you ready for Christmas?”

I don’t mind this question, though I never know quite what to say.  The simple answer is “No, I’m not ready.”  The more complex answer is “Will I ever be ready?”  On one hand, I still have lots to do to prepare for the big day.  On the other hand, I’m not rushing around in a panic and I realize I’ll never be completely finished all the things I’d like to do.  I could always bake more cookies, deliver more goodies, send more cards, sing more carols, buy more gifts, spread more cheer, and do more service.  And then there are the outdoor Christmas lights I don’t think I’ll ever get hung.

I’ve learned that preparing for Christmas is best taken care of one day at a time.  We do the most important things first then fit the extras around the big stuff.  I like Steven R. Covey’s analogy where he fits rocks into a container then pours sand around them.  They all fit when the big stuff goes in first.

Just like life.  When we prioritize and do the most important things first, everything else we need to do will fit.  Are we ever really ready for the things life throws at us?  Probably not.  But we do our best to prepare then trust things will work out.

Now it’s one week ‘til Christmas and to answer the question, “Are you ready?” I’ll say:  Since Christmas – and a happy life – is about generously giving and graciously receiving, I hope I’m always ready but never quite finished.

The Magic of Giving

My first Christmas away from home was spent in Montreal with a roommate from Italy.  We couldn’t be with our families, so on Christmas Day we went to a long-term care facility to feed those who couldn’t feed themselves.  After lunch we went from room to room, visiting, admiring family photos, and singing requested carols.

One woman scared me.  When we went to her room, she hissed with bared teeth and foul breath, “I’m gonna die!”  Fortunately, a friend who was with us knew what to do.  He removed the angel from his lapel and gently pinned it to her nightgown, explaining that this angel would keep her company.  Her face softened and peace filled her eyes.  I marveled at the difference this kind but simple gesture had made to a frightened woman.

Not many days later we found her bed vacant, and I was extra grateful that we had spent some time and shared a little joy with her on Christmas Day.

Subsequent Christmases have come and gone, filled with friends and family, parties and concerts, good food, and plenty of presents.  Still, something about that Christmas in Montreal stands out from the others.  Gifts were few and family was absent, but joy was abundant as I learned that most important lesson:  When we give, we can’t help but receive.

That is the magic of giving.  When we spread love and joy by selflessly giving to others, we feel love and joy in our own hearts.

There are so many ways to give:  donating to a food bank; letting someone ahead of us in line; inviting a widow for dinner; shoveling a neighbour’s driveway; writing to a lonely uncle…  The possibilities are endless...and so is the magic of giving.