Last night, Quinn, my oldest son, invited me into a private conversation. He did so knowing that Alea was in her bed and that Kye was knocked out on the couch downstairs after a long night of Christmas shopping.
He confessed gently that he knew that Santa was not real. He has known for a year now and he wanted me to know that he knew. It was his loving way to let me know that he did not want to have secrets from each other. It was a sweet and tender moment.
We talked about the tradition of Santa and about the real Santa that left items in shoes long ago. And, how that tradition gets carried on today to keep the spirit of Santa alive.
Alea asked about Santa in the store, she wondered if every child got a gift. In my head, I felt a sadness in the realization that some children may never experience the Spirit of Santa due to circumstances.
Kye on the other hand, is still in the me phase. He could not understand why he could not get a glow necklace for himself when we were shopping for others in the family. He did reconcile to buy one for Quinn, however grudgingly.
I guess I hope that my kids will remember the real gift of Christmas; God's love for us, the gift of family, the miracle of life and the ability to live each day and experience love.