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| Image from Pixabay |
One of my most memorable Christmases
reminds me a bit of the old television program, ‘To Tell the Truth’. The show
featured a panel of celebrities who had to guess which of three contestants was
telling the truth about his or her unusual career or life experience.
I was about five at the time. My
four-year-old cousin, Donnie, and his family were visiting from New Jersey. His
Dad wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. When Donnie and I were
told to go to bed and go to sleep or Santa wouldn’t come, we did our best to
comply. But the night was early and we were young. Besides, we were
super-excited about what we might find under the tree the next morning, and
sleep is impossible when you’re in such a state.
While the two of us lay side by side
in my mother’s double bed, I practiced tying a bow in Raggedy Ann’s apron.
Despite my mother’s efforts to teach me, I still hadn’t mastered the art.
My uncle passed by the open door and
saw that we were still awake.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
"Trying to tie a bow,” I said,
reasonably.
“Well, stop it and go to sleep,” he
said. “Santa isn’t going to come as long as the two of you are still awake.”
I lay still, and Donnie did too. My
uncle partially closed the bedroom door and couldn’t see that our eyes remained
wide open. Quietly, I tried to make another bow. And just as I succeeded, we
heard sleigh bells ringing outside the house.
Santa!
But no. Suddenly I knew the truth.
It was my uncle ringing those bells.
Belief in Santa died that night,
though a stronger realization came. My uncle was more complicated than I knew.
Given black and white, I’d painted him black, but perhaps he was grayer. And
now I also knew I was capable of doing things. Big things. Bigger even than
tying a bow in a doll’s apron string.
When I look back, I can still see
that little girl, lying under the covers in a darkened room on Christmas Eve.
And I know that the event didn’t destroy the magic of Christmas for me. While I
discerned the lie, I gained a larger truth. The holy day isn’t about Santa, or
about the giving or receiving of gifts. Saint Nicholas would agree.
Christmas
is about the Christ child and what He came for. He wanted us to know who we are
and who we can become.
He wants the truth to set us free.
--------------He wants the truth to set us free.
This story was originally published on my friend Annmarie's blog in December 2013. For more of my writing, please visit www.susan-barclay.ca
