December 25th: The Truth

I remember the day I realized there was no Santa Claus. It was near Christmas time, with only 8 days left until the greatest morning of the year. The weeks prior to this day had been full of suspicion and impatience. I had finally started questioning Santa’s existence, and the kids at school helped fuel these thoughts. While at school that day, the Santa debate came up once again while at the lunch table. My one friend, Matt, debunked his existence, but my friend, Kevin, still had faith in old St. Nicholas. The argument went back and forth ferociously, nearly causing a fight between the two. I had spent most of the time laughing at my two friends, but still listening closely. Each of them made valid points, but I wasn’t buying any of their facts until I saw evidence.

Once the school bell rung, I bolted out of class and started rushing home. I had decided I was going to find out the truth about Santa finally. I walked back to my house at a swift pace, knowing I didn’t have much time. Both my parents were at work and it would be only two hours until they were home. Once I got home, I immediately began to scour the house with urgency. First I checked the basement and my dad’s office. Nothing was found but pens and books, which could’ve easily been my father’s idea of a gift. I then headed upstairs two flights to the attic. This was where I really thought I would find the gifts. I looked through stacks of boxes and made 10-year-old dust move around. When the dust cleared, nothing was to be found but some old heirlooms of the family.

Finally, I decided to check my parent’s bedroom. This task came with high risk of getting caught. My dad is known for his meticulous nature, and searching his room would certainly create suspicion of my actions. But the truth knows no bounds, and I needed to break some boundaries to find it. I delicately searched through the parent’s room at a snail’s pace. Lightly moving around objects and cautiously closing drawers caused me to start tip-toeing, even though no one else was in the house. I opened and closed some more until I reached my mother’s closet. I opened the closet swiftly and was stunned by the automatic light. Regaining my focus, I perused my eyes over the array of dresses and heels. Eventually my eyes made their way to the bottom of the closet. I had found it. I had found the truth; and this truth came in a form of a stuffed monkey.

In fact, it was one of the most beautiful stuffed monkeys I had ever seen. I immediately grabbed it and thought about how I asked Santa for this. I had seen the stuffed monkey in Learning Express, and begged my mother for it. My mother then gave the traditional Christmas time response, “Well, why don’t you ask Santa for it?”. And so, I took my mother’s advice and put it on the list I ‘sent’ to Santa. Little did I know; the list was never seen by anyone but my parents.

Below the monkey, were the rest of the gifts for my brother and I. Almost every one of them marked with “From Santa”, with the same handwriting as the ones signed “From Mom and Dad”. I stepped back for a moment, and thought about life. I thought about everything my parents have told me. I thought about the good times my family and I have had. I thought about all the kids who didn’t know the truth. Suddenly the world seemed small, and my heart was barren of all the Christmas Joy I once had. Nothing would ever be the same… until the next day, when I remembered that with or without Santa, I’m still getting gifts in 7 days.