I’ve written before about how my brother and I got to see Santa Claus when he visited our home one evening just before Christmas. I’ve also written about when my children got to see Santa at their grandparents’ home. My son took the experience in stride, but it took my daughter some time to get over her fear of the big, bearded, Ho-Ho-Hoing guy.
Recently, it occurred to me that I don’t know if my younger sister and brother ever got to see Santa. I do not recall him visiting us when they were young. My sister was born when I was eight, and my brother when I was eleven. I lived in the same household they did until they were nine and almost six, respectively. So we were together in their prime Santa-seeing years.
I don’t even know if they visited Santa in the mall. I don’t remember going with them if they did, though a much older sister might have diminished the experience for them. By that point, I had little interest in Santa.
It would be sad if they missed seeing Santa. It’s a fun experience for children (once they get over their fear).
I do know that once my sister and brother each married and had kids of their own, they took their children to have formal pictures with Santa every year. Even after the kids had to be bribed to go see Santa.
Now I wonder whether my siblings’ diligence about taking their children to visit Santa was because they never saw Santa as children themselves. I should ask them sometime.
In the meantime, here are some of my earlier posts about visiting Santa:
Did you see Santa as a child?
My father played Santa. I remember clearly, the last time he crept around the house with a Santa cap on his head, hell-bent on the front door [not the chimney.] We saw him through the window before he reached the front door and the jig was up. We all yelled, “Daddy is Santa!” I was in first grade, but my younger brother was only three and more impressionable. Older brother was 7 1/2 and ready to let Santa go. 🙂
And you, Pam, were you ready? My clue was that my grandmother addressed her presents in her unique and awful handwriting as “from Santa and Mrs. Claus.”
Theresa
I remember seeing Santa at a church Christmas party when I was about seven. We had a tradition of hanging our stockings on the handles of the slatted doors between our kitchen and living room. Mom told us Santa filled the stockings early Christmas morning. One year I couldn’t sleep and crept down the stairs around 5 am to witness my father stuffing them with all the candies and toys we so looked forward to getting. Ah, Emerson, Lake & Palmer said it best, “‘Till I woke with a yawn in the first light of dawn and I saw him and through his disguise.”
Aww, I hope you weren’t too traumatized. Have a great holiday.
Theresa