Christmas Magic

This Christmas some of the magic has gone. Yes, we now have a houseful of non-believers. They’ve done pretty well reaching the age of nine and I’m sure that, had her friend not spilt the beans earlier this year upon finding out herself, then Missy would still believe.

Her brother, on the other hand, has been sceptical a while. In fact, I’m fairly certain he didn’t believe last year either but was smart enough to go along with it and still receive a sackful of pressies on the end of his bed Christmas morning.

Master 11 was told from the age of eight: “If you don’t ‘believe’, you won’t receive”, ie Keep your mouth shut and you will also wake to a sackful of presents. This worked.

There was no big announcement; One day, halfway up Mount Manaia, one of them said: ‘Mum, Santa’s not real – it’s you aye?’ and I just gave him a little smile which he could interpret any way he wanted.

However, his sister came home from school a little irate that her friend had spoilt it for her and I confirmed it by joining her with the unfairness of it all. (Parents, if you’re gonna tell your kids, please ask them to keep it to themselves!) And that was that.

It’s been odd this year, not having to put stocking-fillers aside, nor making the personalised Santa videos which would hold them enthralled waiting until the end to see whether they got the red light or the green for naughty or nice. (One year, Missy ended up in tears for her brother who had received a red light, it was taken that seriously.) There’ll be no more watching the Santa Report on the news, followed by shrieking their way to bed in excitement with his impending arrival.

We won’t be leaving a bucketful of water on the back deck for Rudolph and his buddies or a note to Santa stating: ‘Santa, you’re the best in the world. Ho ho ho.’ with some huckeroo pieces of chopped up fruit (phew!) I can’t even bribe them from December 1 that Santa’s elves are watching them ready to report their behaviour back to the North Pole.

I’m fairly confident your children won’t be reading this – mine certainly don’t, but perhaps, if they were thinking of doing some papier mache, confiscate it fast! I would hate to shatter their magical illusion. And meantime, soak up the magic that is Christmas with a houseful of believers.