This memory that I have of seeing Santa in my Grandma’s bedroom changed my point of view on a lot of things. First as one could imagine what Santa represents in the eyes of a child. Now knowing Santa is not real many more problems arise, the biggest one who do I write my Christmas list to?
I remember when I found out that Santa wasn’t real, he really didn’t make special trips to my Grandma’s house, I started to question, well if Santa isn’t real is the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy real? Who was I suppose to write my Christmas wish-list to? Or even who was giving me quarters every time I lost a tooth?
My first instinct was to go tell my mom what I just saw, well as any older sister would so I also told my sister who was three years younger than I was. Many questions arose for my sister as well, just like any other child would have. Not only did I question who was I suppose to write a wish-list? But if all those years that I wrote my letter to Santa, and if Santa isn’t real then who was receiving my letters and who the heck was writing me back all those years. Realizing my letters were pointless put me down. I wanted my voice to be herd, I wanted to know, and to have that feeling inside me that someone was really reading my letter, and they did care. That was a turning point in my writing life once I figured out that Santa wasn’t real, it didn’t matter who I wrote to, I was still getting a letter back, and that’s all that mattered to me when I was six.
Some how my parents got my sister to believe that I was making things up and for the next 5 years she still believed in the fat, jolly man in the red suit. But every year she wrote to Santa and just like the year before “Santa” never failed to write back. In the thought of my sister I still wrote a letter too. Was it because I didn’t want to believe that he was made up or that someone who I never knew was writing me back. So many emotions went through me as I sat down with my sister to write a letter to this so called Santa guy. I wanted to scream, but I knew my sister would have freaked out and told on me, and I would have spent the rest of the day in my room.
This memory opened up a whole new world to me, in the things I believed in, and in the things I created myself. I knew for a fact I had to prove myself wrong, Santa is real, Santa is real! I just created this image in my own mind, Santa was real, he did make a special trip to Grandma’s every year to give us kids our own presents just like in all the movies, and stories that I read. The thing that my mom said surprised me the most, she told me that the real Santa was really here, but in our hearts the Santa that you saw was Santa’s twin. Who knew Santa had a twin, I didn’t and I don’t remember hearing about him in stories or in the movies that I saw.
Thinking back to the day that I was told that Santa had a twin was really weird, only because I had to tell my sister that the Santa that I saw was his twin (try explaining that one to a three year old) which was really impossible for me, a six year old, to explain. So as I sat there, and waited for (this new found) Santa to hand us our gifts, I thought about the letters that I wrote to “Santa.” I really wanted to know if the for-real Santa had his twin write all the little boys, and girls back, kind of like how I had my sister help clean my room, and her reward was to play with one of my Barbie’s (how lame was that, if I was her I would have bargained for something a little better than a stupid Barbie).
Of course my little sister didn’t believe that Santa had a twin (I don’t even think she knew what a twin was at the time) and she still believed in the real Santa. She wrote or in what I saw, scribbled a wish-list down, and colored many crazy shapes, and figures with the crayons that my mom gave her. I would have to sit down with her and write one to just so she wouldn’t get any crazy ideas that Santa wasn’t real? I remember writing something that went along these lines.
I have been a really good girl this year, (who doesn’t say that in a letter to Santa, seriously I think everyone has to say that just so we feel better about ourselves) I have done everything that my Mommy and Daddy tell me, I am nice to my sister all the time, I even let her play with my Barbie’s when she wants to. (That’s a total lie) So I think for Christmas I should get most of the stuff on my list, what do you think?
As you could tell Santa I have been a good girl. But I need to ask you a question, If you are too lazy to write me back I understand, I would have my twin do it too, if I had one. I also need to know how come your twin isn’t in any movies or T.V. shows that I watch?
Writing a letter to Santa around Christmas time seemed to always excite me. At the time I wasn’t sure if it was the actually writing part that got me so ecstatic about the letter or the part where I got to tell Santa what a good girl I was and making the list of toys that seemed to never end. It came time my sister found out that Santa wasn’t real and neither was his twin. As Christmas cam around each year I still felt like I needed to write a letter to Santa. Every day that the mail man came I would ask my mom did Santa write me back, and it seemed like the answer would always be no. As the days drug on it was past Christmas and it became my birthday, and I was still waiting for a letter from Santa. It seemed like I have waited for ages (well I actually have). For five years after that I would send a letter to Santa asking the same thing, and I still am waiting to this day to hear back from him. As a young adult reliving a childhood memory brings back emotions and hope. Hope that this is all a dream and Santa really does fly around in a sleigh with nine reindeer, delivering presents to every good girl and boy.
Posted by katiegirl0120 on December 4, 2008
Tags Paper Assignments
Comments on specific paragraphs:
Click the
icon to the right of a paragraph
Comments on the page as a whole:
Click the
icon to the right of the page title (works the same as paragraphs)