Figuring out Santa Claus

Sometimes we ended up discussing philosophy while putting my daughters to sleep. On Christmas Eve, I recollected one of those old conversations.

My three-year-old was very worried on the night when Santa was supposed to come and visit.

“Does Santa Claus know we have shifted to Bangalore?”

“How does he know where each child lives?

“Will he be able to give gifts to all the children on one night?”

I didn’t have plausible reasons so I gently changed the topic and we discussed the next day’s plans till she fell asleep.

My six-year-old was still awake and she crept closer for the secret chat.
She giggled and whispered: “I know you buy the gifts for us. The Santa Claus in the mall is just a normal people who wears the red dress and sticks on a false beard.”

"Santa Claus is not real" She was sure.

I was glad that she had it all figured out but I also felt so sad at that moment; as if a little bit of enchantment  had just left our life.

“So now that you know that there is no Santa Claus, I don’t need to keep the surprise gifts for you anymore?”

“No Mamma, Santa is not real but the gifts are real! You have to keep giving them.”

Over the years I lost my monopoly on being ‘Santa’ of the house as they too started giving us gifts. And then the circle expanded to friends, to the people who work for us and to children who actually need gifts.

So we do have a bit of the magic left with us, in the form of joy that comes from receiving and giving.