My favorite Christmas memory

My favorite Christmas memory, ironically, did not start out all that good.

It started on the day I found out that Santa Claus was not real, and Santa Claus was my parents.
*Details of this Christmas might be fabricated a little, given that I was only eight or nine years old, I can't remember everything!

My parents, my brother Cal and I were sitting at a booth at Carrow's for a meal. Our conversation suddenly shifted to Santa Claus and Christmas when I asked my parents the question every parent dreads to answer.

"So, Santa isn't real?"

My mother clutched Cal then shifted him around so he couldn't watch the conversation and shook her head slowly.

"Oh. What about Tooth Fairy? Easter Bunny?" I looked at my Dad for this.

Dad also shook his head.

"Oh. Okay."

I asked more questions about who Santa was (they were), who ate the cookies (Dad did), and who wrote notes/gave the presents (Mom did)

And the conversation was over. I was silent all the way riding the car back home.

I think during the drive home I finally really understood why my parents were Santa Claus. I compared my parents as Santa's helpers to God and Jesus then Jesus who had disciplines. It was like Santa had parents who became elves--they carried on the message of giving and family just like the disciplines passed on Jesus' and God's messages to others.

I was a pretty smart kid, I guess. This theory settled me, and I wanted to become one of Santa's helpers.

When I got home, I remember this specific question very clearly, I asked them if I could help out that following Christmas with everything they did. I emphasized that I didn't want to ruin it for Cal. Mom and Dad promised to wake me up when it was time to help!

And that's how it turned out to be one of the best Christmases ever, I got to see how the Santa Claus thing worked behind the scenes. That previous Christmas we set up a fake cardboard fireplace so Santa could "come down the Chimney" since we didn't have a fireplace, so that Christmas, I made sure Cal knew that the cardboard fireplace REALLY did work. I would tell him stories about other kids that saw Santa, and I promised him that I would stay up with him to see Santa on Christmas Eve.

When Christmas Eve came, I was super excited and I couldn't wait. The usual Christmas jitters was doubled knowing I would be helping out that specific Christmas.

My parents woke me up like they promised, and they told me to be very quiet so Cal wouldn't hear us.

I helped them eat pieces of cookies, and wrote a note from Santa. I helped my mom put the presents under the tree, this process might have took my parents the double time they usually did it--but I helped out! Then I padded back to my room to sleep until it was time to wake up on Christmas morning.

Waking up my brother and seeing his reaction to Santa's arrival was one of the best things ever. Of course, I acted like I didn't know he wasn't real--but I was truly excited regardless.

This wasn't the last Christmas I helped out with, I still help every single Christmas to this date. I help my mom pick out stocking stuffers (even hinting heavily at the ones I wanted for myself, and my mom would hint heavily to what she wanted, and we got each other's item that we hinted for). We might not do the cookies, fake notes from Santa or Santa presents anymore; but the spirit of giving, being with family, the story of Jesus and the story of St. Nicholas is and will always be there on Christmas.

I hope you have a fantastic holiday with your family, loved ones and friends. Regardless if you do or don't celebrate Christmas, have a Merry Christmas! If you feel offended by my well wishing, please go here and see the picture below.

This is probably the only time I will bring up the whole Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas debacle, but thank you in advance for not taking offense in anything I said about Christmas and my family's beliefs! <3