Opinion by ElenaBurt

CAUTION: Do not not let your younger kids or siblings read this story 

In my house, Santa is still real. I have six siblings, some of whom are under the age of 10 and still believe in the jolly fat man that falls down our chimney. For a lot of people my age, the myth of Santa Claus breaking and entering, bringing gifts galore and snacking on our milk and cookies, is dead and has been dead for a while (I hope). 

Since the third grade, I have had to be extremely cautious when talking about the truth pertaining to Santa Claus’ existence in my own household. There could always be a believer listening. After all, younger siblings look up to us older ones and keep a sharp account of every word that comes out of our mouths. Nobody wants to be the person who ruins Santa Claus for most of the household, which used to be all six of my brothers and sisters. 

I was the first of my siblings to figure out “the secret of Santa,” despite being the second oldest to my brother—younger boys just don’t pick things up as quickly as girls do. That year I had been eager to see if Santa Claus really was real. I walked up to my parents’ room to find my mom reading off my Christmas list, which I put in my chimney where Santa allegedly picked it up, to my dad while he was on the last minute shopping run to get our gifts. 

I remember crying, being so disappointed and even in disbelief, despite my suspicions. The magic of Christmas that year was stripped from my youthful mind. I had aunts and uncles coming up to me, patting me on the back and reassuring me with sympathy smiles that being on the “other side” of Christmas brings a different but better kind of fun. 

That is somewhat true. I love moving our Elf on the Shelf and Snoop on the Stoop at night to see little siblings wake up the next morning racing downstairs to see who finds them first, or reminding them that “Santa’s watching” when they are misbehaving. 

However, nothing will beat the “believer’s traditions,” like tracking Santa’s predicted location on Christmas Eve, making sure I was extra obedient during the season or convincing myself I heard reindeer on the roof while I was supposed to be sound asleep. 

Believing in Santa was one of the highlights of mine and many others’ childhoods. That is why it is our duty, as older siblings, aunts, cousins and even babysitters, to keep the magic going for the little ones around us. I would not want to be the person who ruins the magic for the sweet, blonde, blue-eyed baby of the family, Teddy. 

Some might think that it is wrong to lie to kids, and, I can admit, there are some horror stories out there of little kids being completely thrown off by their parents lying to them about Santa. However, the myth of Santa Claus is a lie that, usually, doesn’t harm anyone. It brings kids joy, gives them something to look forward to, helps them control their behavior and fosters life-lasting memories. 

We all love to see kids’ faces light up when they see that “Santa” took a nibble, big or little, out of the sweet cookies laid out for him. 

It is undeniable that the absence of Santa would dim the Christmas sparkle that we all know and love.