Believing in a big, heavy, long bearded, jolly person that would deliver gifts to every single house all over the world was absolutely magical. Just the thought of him riding a sleigh with reindeer that could fly was enough to make any child smile. Being able to write a Christmas list to him or being lucky enough to sit on his lap to tell him what you wanted was the best. It all seems so supernatural and unreal until you find out that it actually is unreal. It seems like your entire childhood was partially a lie.
Parents would tell their children that they had better be good because Santa Clause did not stop at the bad kid’s houses. Kids would actually believe them and change their attitudes immediately. My parents would even tell me to bake cookies and set out a glass of milk for who I thought was Santa Clause. There are so many things that Santa Clause does for the Christmas season. I would even go as far as to say that he is Christmas. Learning that he did not exist was a shock because, for so many years, the idea of Santa was something that I was taught to believe but now I see he was merely an apparition conjured up by parents to try to make their kids behave better.
