With Christmas just days away, children everywhere are getting ready for a visit from the jolly old man in the red suit. Of course I am referring to Santa Claus.
As a child I waited anxiously every Christmas Eve for Santa to leave his bundle of gifts under our Christmas tree. I always had difficulty sleeping on this particular night, and what made it worse was the fact that some years we spent the night at my grandmother’s house.
This troubled me greatly. How would Santa know where I was? Would he bring the gifts to the right place? I anxiously tossed and turned all night praying Santa and my mother had conferred before hand and he knew where to bring the gifts.
Other overnight guests at my grand parents included my two cousins and my aunt and uncle. When I was a child the house did not seem so small. Now I wonder how four children and five adults ever slept in that tiny two-bedroom house that barely seems large enough to house my grandparents and their two pets.    
I was never disappointed on Christmas morning. Santa always knew where to bring the gifts and he even figured out how to get into our apartment the years when we stayed home. The absence of a chimney and the extra doors Santa had to go through to get to our apartment always left me a little concerned he might just decide to forget the whole thing.
But my mom assured me she always left a key under the mat for Santa. This of course prompted new worries. What if someone else found the key and it was gone before Santa arrived?
One Christmas Eve I woke up and crept out of the bedroom my little brother and I shared. I tip-toed around the corner and peered into the living room. I caught a glimpse of what I was sure was Santa. The person depositing presents under the tree was dressed in red and was taking brightly wrapped packages from a black garbage bag.
I quickly ran back to my bed and dove under the covers. “I hope Santa didn’t see me,” I thought as I struggled to fall back asleep, all the time worrying I had spoiled Christmas for everyone. Needless to say I worried quite a bit as a youngster, most likely the result of an overprotective mother.
My concerns were all for naught as the next morning the gifts remained and I shared with my brother how I had seen Santa himself putting them under the tree. He was very jealous he had slept through the visit from our Christmas time hero.
My mother just smiled and she wrapped herself tighter in her red silk robe. It escaped me for years that my mom and Santa owned clothes the same color, and of course mom assured me she had been asleep the entire evening.
Christmas is a magical time for children and adults alike. Children are allowed to live in a fantasy world where a jolly old man who lives with large animals and tons of little people and gets to make toys all year. What could be more fun?
I also remember being perplexed by the many different Santas at varying malls in the city. In Toledo, there were four malls and we would visit each one at Christmas while my mom shopped. One day I told my mom that Santa at one mall looked different from the Santa at another mall. She patiently explained to me that Santa could not be at all places at once, so he hired some helpers to hear children’s wish lists and report back to him. That made sense. I was satisfied with this answer for many years.
As I grew older and began to get babysitting jobs I soon realized that the threat of a phone call to Santa, I had his personal number at the North Pole I told my charges, would result in instant behavior modification and lessen struggles over unruly bedtime behavior.
Then there is the lesson about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. By being an outcast who saves Christmas, Rudolph teaches kids tolerance, something that is lacking in the world. Way to go Rudolph!
For adults Christmas can be magical because of all the smiles and wonder it brings to children. While presents and Santa aren’t the reason for the season, it’s a wonderful way to make childhood magical.
All you have to do is believe.
— Brandi Neal