Santa Claus
By: Misa Ferreira De Rezende
Tags: Giving, Santa Claus, Neighborhoods, Remembrances, Christmas

Santa Claus

“Courtesy of the Author”

I never remember believing in Santa Claus one hundred percent. My mother, a very practical woman for any matter, never spoke about it. When we mentioned something like leaving the shoes in the window, she listened without looking up from the seam and smiled a little sarcastically. But I never complained about it, the charm of Christmas remained unscathed because no less practical than she was, what we really wanted were gifts, whether from Santa Claus, from our parents or from our wonderful aunt Odete who sent us the packages through the bus from another city.

And waiting for the bus bringing our gifts was our Christmas joy. Once, there was no time for the gifts to be placed on the bus, which caused a real tragedy in our Christmas expectations. We went up the slope to reach our house crying aloud as if the worst thing in the world had happened to us. And so it really was. It was childhood, a magical time with or without Santa Claus.

Each family deals in its own way with this issue of whether or not to protect their children in the belief in Santa Claus. There are those who think that the truth should always prevail even if the little ones suffer from reality. Others prefer to protect the child’s fantasy at all costs.

A few days ago, a friend told me that her little girl came back from school very sad because of the tragic rumor that Santa Claus didn’t exist. A smart classmate had taken charge of transmitting the bad news. My friend, without knowing how to act, chose to be sad also showing solidarity with the girl. Everything ended well when the grandfather intervened consoling both daughter and granddaughter guaranteeing that he himself had already met the “good old man”.

I think it doesn’t matter because the children, by their very nature, manage to move between reality and the fantasy world in a good way, and use mechanisms that adults do not know for such a feat. The child will somehow know to deal with the question of whether or not Santa Claus exists.

I remember once, myself, sneaked my shoes into a half-hidden corner of the window. I already knew that Santa Claus didn’t exist, but what if …you know? There is always a doubt, to say the truth, until today. Well, the next day there was no gift, so I realized that Santa Claus hadn’t come. The shoes might have been too hidden to be found, or maybe Santa Claus was really used to putting gifts at the foot of our bed, or maybe he didn’t even exist.

I read a story by the writer Luis Fernando Veríssimo that Santa Claus himself had come to his house some Christmas. Ecstatic, Veríssimo embraced his soccer ball, triggered the revolver with a fuze, and ran around the house until in the kitchen he found Santa Claus without his hat and his beard, drinking beer with the maid. He knew that man, he was a friend of the family. The writer doesn’t remember how he rationalized the situation, perhaps Santa Claus did not exist or that man was Santa Claus indeed. It didn’t matter! Everything was fine. Veríssimo concludes by saying that “the good thing about being a child, is that we don’t need to rationalize.” It is true.

However, the point is not to believe in Santa Claus or stop believing. At that time I always suffered the next morning when we left the house, eager to display our gifts and admire those of the other children. We had to face the eyes of the poor children who came from a poor part of the city. Some of those children stopped to see the dolls, the bikes, and they looked at us too. This look I can’t forget!

I am sure that where the poor children lived, the “good old man” never appeared.