Santa Claus and Recessions

Hot chocolate time!

I started the tradition of wrapping everything, including the gift cards and stocking stuffers, when the children were tiny, and there were fewer of them. I remember one of my friends looking at me as if I had stuffed all of my intelligence into the Salvation Army pot; they wrapped nothing- they just left heaps of toys out for their kids. That just seemed so bleak to me, so I began my tradition: I wanted each gift to burst forward as a surprise! I wanted each child to gently shake each wrapped parcel, pondering the mystery of Jesus and the magic of a Santa who so completely knew a little child’s innermost wishes and somehow crafted each, delivered them by a certain date- and took the time to wrap them all!

How charming! The years passed, the children kept coming, and on Christmas Eve, around 2:00 AM as I was heading to WTF Land, Santa looked less like he was taking the time to wrap the magic, and more like he had assigned the job to his elves after their company party. Only one child in this house actually believes anymore, but I am still wrapping gift certificates. You can’t just cut a tradition off at the knees, and, in all honesty, I like how the unwrapping extends the moment.

But for now, back to work.

What is interesting about this is that yesterday I had a talk with the little one who is 11. She told me that she no longer believes, and hasn’t since before last Christmas. She was acting as if she did last year so that I wouldn’t be disappointed.
They all know that Christmas in this house this year- as in many others in the country- is going to be a much less extravagant affair than in times past. I had been trying to figure out how I could explain a short Christmas list in the context of Santa. After all, magic is not affected by mortal circumstances, is it?
This child was already there, though. She had made her small list and was not sad about it, although I was. And I can’t figure out why- why do I feel that a huge pile of presents is necessary to create a holiday atmosphere? Why are excess and happiness entwined in my mind?
I KNOW I don’t give my kids credit enough. I expect them to be really attached to material things, and to feel that the traditions of their babyhood are intractable regardless of circumstance, and here they are, ahead of me. They don’t care what’s there under the tree, as long as we took time going through all of their handmade ornaments when putting up that tree, and followed it with hot chocolate.
That’s present enough for me.

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