No, Emilie, There is no Santa Clause….

christmas_eveMy eight-year-old son, Nathaniel, still believes in Santa.  When he talks about Santa, he jumps up and down in small bursts of energy that he can’t contain.  The other day I caught him looking up the chimney, trying to figure out how a fat man with a large sack of gifts could possibly get through such a small space.  We also have to leave the requisite cookies and milk out for Santa when he comes.  And maybe a few carrots in the yard for the reindeer.

Nathaniel’s belief in Santa doesn’t bother me. In fact, I think it’s beautiful.  Imagine a world where a little eight-year-old boy still has the innocence to believe that a benevolent, overgrown elf flies around the world on Christmas eve delivering presents to good little boys and girls.  It’s magical.  And I love that about Nathaniel.  He has a wonderful imagination.  He loves stories about knights, dragons, wizards, Jedi, and ninja.  Santa is just part of that magical world he believes in.   I know it won’t last.

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