Sweetie, Santa Isn't Real

I never really knew how challenging this time of year would be for my Jewish child.

I grew up in an agnostic house where a tree was put up around the first week of December, decorated with little interest from me who always looked for any opportunity to escape into my bedroom and watch television, then depending on whether or not my mom was trying to impress my stepdad that particular year, we would exchange gifts and have some sort of meal on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. It was never a pleasant time, because my mom would have the "ideal" family holiday experience in mind, and we were not even close to the "ideal" family, so at some point in the preparations she would completely wig out and tell all of us that the holidays were canceled and we weren't getting presents.

I've never liked holiday music, ungodly huge amounts of decorations, and I've already mentioned my disinterest in the tree experience. Celebrating Hanukkah is great. All you have to do is throw a dreidel and menorah on the table, say a prayer and light some candles. On December 25th I have a very Merry Christmas, because I get a paid day off, and a chance to practice the yearly ritual of gathering with other Jews at my favorite Chinese food restaurant.

Although we've accumulated Hanukkah decorations such as lights, a throw pillow, a table runner, and a cute, dreidel shaped candy tray, its been our discretion as to whether or not to put them out.

This year has turned out to be quite different. Our daughter is 5 years old, and wants our yard to be as flashy as our Christmas celebrating neighbors. No problem, Jeff bought blue and white house lights, and I ordered an inflatable, light up, 6' dreidel for the yard. We put up several menorahs in the house, and strung a 'Happy Hanukkah' sign we once used for a party across the fireplace mantle. It seemed as though we had our daughter's holiday spirit under control, and nurtured in a healthy way until the fateful night I got the question.

It's the question that I'm sure every non-Christian, non-Christmas celebrating parent dreads; "Mommy is Santa going to come to our house?"

I responded quickly with a comeback that I believed would be sufficient, "No, honey, we don't celebrate Christmas. We celebrate Hanukkah."

She started crying, and I admit it; I panicked.

"Honey, there's no such thing as Santa Clause." replied the flustered mommy.

"Huh?"

I explained that Santa was a fictional being, and that it was the parents who placed the toys under the tree.

"But why would the parents tell their kids that there is a Santa Clause when there really isn't?" replied the freakin' smart kid.

I had to choose my explanation carefully lest I ruin such childhood joys such as the Tooth Fairy, Elijah and the mysterious disappearing cup of wine on Passover, or the idea that the government works for the best interest of the people. I explained to the ever curious Rachael that it was kind of like telling their children a nice fairy tale, and that in no way, shape or form should she ever, ever reveal the non-existence of Santa Clause to any other child, especially her young, Christmas celebrating cousin, Savanna.

She seemed happy with this, and I'm still not sure if I committed a grave faux pas, only time will tell on that front. I think the idea that Santa isn't real is a bit comforting to my little Jewish child especially when she goes down aisle after aisle of Christmas decor at Target searching for the lone Hanukkah item that was not to be found, until finally settling on a big plastic Santa in which she pointed, laughed out loud, and whispered, "Mommy, he isn't real."