Is there a right age to tell your child the truth about Santa Claus? Two adults, who are kids at heart share their thoughts
Return to Innocence
I must have been about eight years old, when I found out that there was no Santa Claus. I remember the moment quite clearly. My cousins and I were standing in front of my aunt's front door, waiting for someone to let us in and having the most random conversation, when one of them said something about parents buying the gifts. I looked a bit surprised so obviously my cousin turned to me and said, “You know there's no Santa, right? Our parents buy the gifts for us”. I refused to believe it and stubbornly shook my head. My cousin is just a year and half older than me and she had already 'grown up'. I asked my parents about it that evening. They told me it was true (obviously!). I was pretty crushed, but there was not much I could do about it! Did the gifts stop coming? No! Even today, when we're all 20+, we still get gifts. So what was the big deal about finding out about Santa at an early age? Well, I didn't have to suck up to Santa and be especially good once we hit December anymore and I didn't have to write any letters, but you're a child for only so many years and then you have the rest of your life to be an adult. And when I think of it, writing letters and trying to be good, was actually fun. Why rob a child of that innocence?
–Avril-Ann Braganza
I wish I was Santa Claus
I suppose having friends older than you has its upside, you get to read a lot of books not meant for girls your age and generally know a whole lot more than you ought to. The downside is, perhaps you get to know too much, to soon. Santa Claus for instance. I don't really think the six-year-old me really wanted to know that he wasn't real. And I tried to ignore what my friends were telling me for a while. The thing is, once your head gets hold of an idea, even one that it doesn't quite like, it never lets go. Well, so I knew what I knew, big deal. Looking for a ray of light in the situation, I figured, now if I actually wrote letters to Santa, I might get what I want. And so I would write lengthy letters in my parents presence and actually read then out aloud, so that everyone could hear. Alas, I don't think I ever got anything on my list. Perhaps, I asked for too much. Perhaps, Santa (who I now knew was my parents) thought I'd been really bad. Maybe, my parents weren't overly into gifting. I'm not sure. I never asked. But I do remember how furious I was when my cousin decided to tell my little brother that there was no Santa. And how I quickly tried to change the topic and hush it all up and pretend that she was the one making up stories. For some reason, even though I knew otherwise, it stall mattered to me that little people be allowed to believe in Santa for as long as they could. The gift exchanges at Christmas have long since stopped. Now, I buy gifts for people anytime of year. I don't need a rhyme or reason to spend. In fact, I think I'd like to be Santa Claus... Wouldn't it be fun to have a job that involved giving people exactly what they need?
–Averil Nunes
How would you tell your kids about Santa? Write to us at dnaofwomen@gmail.com
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
)
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
)
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
)
)
)
)
)
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}