As the holiday season approaches, I’ve found myself facing the question: Am I one of “those parents”? You know, the ones who choose not to perpetuate the Santa Claus myth? This perspective may not sit well with my in-laws, my own parents, my spouse, or some friends. However, it’s time to unpack the arguments surrounding the Santa story.
Tradition is often invoked in defense of Santa, but let’s get real—just because something is traditional doesn’t mean it’s inherently good. While it’s true that many secular families may lack the shared religious customs that create lasting memories, we have our own unique holiday rituals.
Every December, we select a beautiful Christmas tree to decorate. I enjoy baking while listening to a mix of festive tunes, from classic Johnny Mathis to quirky South Park songs. My favorite recipes include mocha crinkles, cranberry white chocolate macadamia cookies, oatmeal chocolate chip, and my grandmother’s cherished Jubilee Jumbles. On Christmas Eve, my son’s grandparents join us, and we indulge in a deep-fried turkey—after a frantic search for the flavor injector that inexplicably ends up in our garage toolbox. Our meal features sausage-apple-cranberry stuffing and glazed carrots, accompanied by the traditional wassail. We unwrap gifts, sing carols, and my father reads “The Night Before Christmas” to my son, just as he did for me. The following day is filled with more presents, relaxation, and, of course, cookies.
These moments define our tradition, Santa or not. My goal isn’t to shield my son from the myth of Santa but to introduce him to a tapestry of stories from around the globe. Myths are powerful not because they are factual, but because they inspire and bring joy into our lives.
Some argue that teaching children about Santa Claus is a vital part of childhood magic. But I would argue that this perspective is quite narrow. My son enjoys a festive holiday surrounded by love and warmth, and he is not missing out simply because he isn’t anchored to a myth. In fact, many children from diverse backgrounds—Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Baha’i, Wiccan, and atheist—grow up to be well-adjusted adults, even without the expectation of gifts from a jolly man in a red suit.
Reflecting on my own childhood, I don’t think the Santa experience added any real value. The “Santa” who visited was actually Mr. Thompson, our neighbor, who didn’t quite resonate with me. I figured out the truth when I noticed Santa’s handwriting looked suspiciously like my mom’s, and he oddly requested tuna sandwiches (which were more my dad’s thing).
What I cherish most are those other holiday practices: the tree decorating, the caroling, the baking, and being with family. The pressure to uphold the Santa narrative seems less about the children and more about adults wishing to reclaim their own lost innocence. Personally, I find joy in celebrating family, the return of sunshine during winter, and yes, even the search for that elusive turkey injector. Isn’t that magical enough?
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Summary
In this reflection on the Santa Claus myth, the author shares personal holiday traditions that foster family bonds and create cherished memories without relying on the Santa narrative. The piece argues that myths can enrich our lives without being accepted as truth and highlights the significance of diverse holiday practices. Ultimately, the joy of the season stems from family gatherings and personal traditions rather than the myth of Santa.