Sunday, March 23, 2008

Not much like a fairy - jcarolek

Today was a beautiful day, chilly, but bursting with sunshine. The morning started out well, with hubby being surprised by his Easter basket I had prepared while he slept last night. Why he was surprised, I have no idea. I have been making an Easter basket for him every year since we were married in 1999. Still, having no children to thrill any longer, I guess it's pretty funny to seem HIM act like a big kid when he spies an overflowing Easter basket!

I was reflecting back on the days when my children were small and Easter was about discovery of hidden eggs, delight in the chocolate laden Easter baskets, and donning the new and "special" Easter outfits to attend the most well-attended church service of the year, save Christmas. And in my reflection, I recalled the night when my children learned the "truth" about a few of their very favorite "gifters." I have shared this story before, more than a year ago, but decided to share it again.

One night when my daughter was 8, over dinner, she told us that the "big kids" had told her that SANTA was really her parents. She demanded to know the truth. Her brother, then 10 sat quietly by. The geniuses in the school they attended had the little kids write letters to SANTA and the 5th graders write SANTA responses to these letters!

So, I told the story my father had told me when I was 9.
"Santa is the name we use to refer to a priest who lived long ago and who left small presents for the children in the town, as part of his observation of Christ's birth. As with all mortals, this priest, St. Nicholas passed away, but his tradition is carried on by people all over the world, through the believing parents of these children."

My daughter and son listened. They nodded in understanding. No bursts of tears...no signs of permanent scarring....

My husband worked shift work those days, and he left the dinner table for bed.

My daughter sat there a while, pondering..
"I suppose you guys are the Easter Bunny too?"

I acknowledged this....

"And how about the Tooth Fairy?"

Again, I confessed...

She thought a bit, and I could see she was getting pretty mad now...
She got up from the table and stormed down the hall to our bedroom.
She flung open the door and addressing her father in no uncertain terms, said,

"YOU DON'T LOOK MUCH LIKE A FAIRY!!!!"

I had to laugh!

That year, she decided we were all full of bunk. SANTA was real, and we could go take a flying leap!! I believe she was 18 when she started to(maybe) begin to think we might have told her the truth....

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