As the holiday season approaches, I find myself confronted with a question: Am I one of “those people”? Which people exactly? The ones who choose not to deceive their children?
I can already hear the disapproval from my in-laws, my parents, my husband, and even some friends. However, it’s time to critically analyze the reasons behind perpetuating the Santa Claus myth.
Yes, I get it—it’s “tradition.” But many traditions exist, and not all are beneficial or necessary. If you’re speaking about the familial bonds and cherished memories that traditions create, I acknowledge that secular families might miss out on certain widespread customs associated with organized religions.
Nonetheless, every December, we have our own traditions. We select and decorate a fresh Christmas tree, and I indulge in baking my favorite holiday cookies—mocha crinkles, cranberry with white chocolate and macadamia nuts, oatmeal chocolate chip, and my grandmother’s Jubilee Jumbles. On Christmas Eve, my son’s grandparents join us, and we prepare a deep-fried turkey, often after a frantic search for the flavor injector I carelessly misplaced months earlier. We enjoy sausage-apple-cranberry stuffing, glazed carrots, and warm wassail, followed by gift-giving and caroling. My father even reads “The Night Before Christmas” to my son, just as he did for me. The next day is filled with more presents, relaxation, and cookie-eating.
That, to me, is tradition—Santa Claus or not.
My intention isn’t to deny my son the joy of holiday stories from around the globe. I want him to appreciate various narratives without needing to believe in their factual accuracy. Myths hold significance not because they are true, but because they inspire and enrich our lives.
Proponents of the Santa myth often argue that it embodies the magic of childhood. Who would be so heartless as to take that away? But I don’t see it that way; my child enjoys a joyous holiday surrounded by family. If you think he’ll somehow be deprived of a magical experience, let’s consider the evidence. There are countless children of various faiths—Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Wiccan, and those who identify as atheists—who have grown into well-adjusted adults without ever anticipating gifts from a jolly old man descending through chimneys.
My own parents embraced the Santa Claus narrative, but I don’t believe it added value to my childhood. “Santa” visited occasionally, played by our neighbor, Mr. Thompson, who wasn’t exactly a figure I related to. I quickly discovered the truth when Santa’s letters looked suspiciously like my mom’s handwriting and requested tuna sandwiches—my dad’s favorite.
What I cherish from my upbringing are those genuine holiday traditions: the Christmas tree, the carols, the cookies, and my family.
The societal pressure to instill belief in Santa may stem from a desire to recapture our own childhood innocence. Personally, I find fulfillment in celebrating the return of the sun and the warmth of family gatherings without needing to cling to a myth. After all, isn’t that magical enough?
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In summary, the myth of Santa Claus may hold sentimental value for some, but it’s not essential for creating meaningful holiday experiences. The richness of family traditions can thrive independently of any fictional narrative, allowing us to celebrate in our unique ways.