THOU SHALL NOT LIE TO YE CHILDREN is the lesser known of the original Eleven Commandments. Moses cut them down to ten, because he felt this one was too big of a challenge and also because he adored even numbers. This decision is no doubt the reason we feel it’s okay lying to our children as our parents lied to us and their parents lied to them and so forth. So we can pretty much blame Moses – don’t you agree? How could he have been so careless?
We tell the kids that Santa Claus is real and we extend the lying by including magical elves, gifts, 8 or 9 flying reindeer, one of them with a shiny nose called Frank or something, a sleigh and this weight-challenged dude dressed in red, stuffing himself down a narrow chimney carrying a sack of presents; and he's commuting from the North Pole of all places. (Oh, by the way, did you know that before Mrs. Claus became Santa’s wife she was an exotic North Pole-Dancer?) And we keep on lying, year after year; mom and dad being responsible role-models - huh?
The deal is that kids are NOT stupid; they figure things out. From 18 months old they already know that mom and dad are lying through their long shiny noses. But they also think: why ruin a good thing by taking a chance of “not” believing, “just in case”? I mean presents are involved. Of course they also notice that fat Uncle Harry is never around when Santa is visiting - DUH?
But I was a dumb kid and here is what happened to me and my faith in Santa Claus.
(Stop reading if you don’t want to know the truth).
One Christmas my mother told me that it was time for “that talk”; I immediately felt uncomfortable and started sweating in real weird places. We sat down in the living room; my mother across from me. She cleared her throat, dabbed her moist eyes and said those horrific words: “Peter, it’s time for you to know the truth: there is NO SANTA CLAUS – he is only a myth…” I couldn’t believe what I heard. I said: “But Mother, I believed you for so many years and now you tell me it was all a lie?” She nodded and said: “Yes Peter; since you turned 30, I thought it was time to tell you the truth …” I was frightened about the answer to my next question: “But what about the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny?” She was visibly crying now. “I’m so sorry…” and she left the room in a hurry. "No Santa, bunny or fairy?" I was devastated - aren't you?
Way back then, my parents, my older brother and I, dressed for the freezing weather, presents in several bags, fighting heavy winds and cold snow; it was Christmas eve. The street-car ride through six stops took about 15 minutes. Then we walked a dimly lit path for another 10 minutes in snow above our boots. We finally arrived at my grandparents’ house. It was warm and cozy and smelled so much of Christmas. The French doors to the living room were closed, but you could still see the decorated tree through the glass; presents underneath and the roaring fireplace. We all gathered in the formal dining room for the Christmas meal. Pork roast with rind, potatoes and gravy followed with rice pudding. If somebody found a whole almond in the pudding they won a marzipan pig; not actual size, of course, just a little one. After a year or so, I stopped eating the pudding as I never really liked it, but more so because my dear brother won the pig every bloody time (but when we returned home, my Mother would often sneak a small marzipan pig into my hand). I have always loved my Mother; so wise she was - so wise she is.
Then my grandfather opened the door to the living room and we entered in a state of awe. All the (real) candles on the tree were lit and the presents looked exciting. To bring the kids more agony we had to dance around the tree many times, holding hands and sing. It couldn’t go fast enough – and then it was time for presents. They were simple, is the only way to describe them – but they worked.
Later we piled on our clothes again, wobbled tired through the snow, got on the street-car, got off and walked home from there – exhausted from the excitement.
I remember Christmas back then in a romantic light. We were kids and we were smitten, just like kids are smitten today. We didn’t have great expectations in the gift department, so we were happy with what we got (except the bloody woolen knitted socks my grandmother gave me every bloody year. I even begged my mother to ask her mother to stop punishing me like that…) But then I took a bite of my little marzipan pig and that made me feel a lot better.
Moses should have left that eleventh Commandment as it was, but with an addendum stating that lying about Santa Claus, the Tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny would be okay; but lying to our children about anything else would be against his will and wishes – and who would wanna mess with Moses? Especially around Christmas - really.
HAPPY KRINGLE
Weight-challenged Uncle Harry at his best
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