I wasn't very old at all when I figured out that Santa couldn't possibly be "real". I remember the conversation with my mother about it, and she explained that Santa was part of the tradition of Christmas, and part of the fun. And part of the "rules" were not to tell other children who still believed in Santa that there was no man in a red suit coming down all those chimneys on Christams Eve. You weren't supposed to spoil the game.

My siblings and I might have figured it out so young because we always did the main celebrations (and gift opening) on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day - Santa came early to our house.

Some of the gifts under our tree were always marked "From Santa" even though we all knew who had really purchased them.

My siblings and I even knew where the stash would be for peeking. We learned not to peek the year that Mom and Dad didn't put the items they overheard us discussing (in not too hushed whispers, I suppose) under the tree that year. (Other gifts were substituted, so they weren't being cruel.)

With the children in my life, I've always used Santa to the same degree that their own parents do.

God is a whole different subject. He is as real (for ME) as the barking dog and the clerk at the grocery store.

campfire