MY CHILDREN STILL BELIEVE IN SANTA

It happens to every parent. That one question around December when our children reach the age of maturity that they begin to ask: Is Santa Claus real? It happened for me about five years ago and the question keeps coming up like a rash that won't go away.
My stock answer: What do you believe?
I wish I could say that I came clean with it, that I explained the dynamic behind St. Nick and what he stood for, but I didn't. Some people may believe me foolish, but it isn't about lying to my children that I am desperate to keep their faith in St. Nick alive. It is what follows the truth that makes me wary.
Children have an unwavering faith in almost everything they believe in, be it the tooth fairy, the Easter bunny, Santa or even the boogie man. But that faith stems from a place deep inside where magic still inhabits the earth and they don't question whether or not something they love is real. It just is.
My children attend Catholic school and learn about God everyday. My reasoning for answering their question with a question is that once they realize WE buy their gifts, once they realize WE place them under the tree carefully marked with Santa's name, they lose that faith and innocence. Cynicism quickly takes root and gone are the rose colored glasses they use to view the world.
I am not a fool. I tell my children everyday that the world isn't always fair, that there are real dangers out their lurking in the shadows AND the daylight. Yet, I can't see to find it in me to come clean and kill the magic that is Santa. They know why we celebrate Christmas, they understand that it is the birth of Christ, but having the jolly guy in the red suit to look forward to is a bonus.
Santa is a symbol of hope and belief. He is an ethereal figure that brings to joy to the hearts of so many children...including mine.
It is my job to prepare my children for the world--to make them ready for the realities every adult faces. It is all of our jobs, as parents, to place the realization in their hands that the world is their oyster and that they are strong enough to achieve any goal they set out to accomplish.
But, I will keep their cynicism at bay for as long as possible, because in the end the joy they feel at the belief in Santa Claus is the same joy I see in their eyes when they speak of God.
My faith wavered the day I removed my rose colored glasses. It began to gnaw at my reasoning and ate at my beliefs until I was nothing more than a lost child, hoping to make sense of the world. It wasn't until I gave up my search for truth--which some might find childish and idiotic--that I found myself in a place where I was truly happy with my faith and my love for God.
My parents never told me about Santa, I learned for myself. I wasn't angry at them, nor did I begrudge then in any way for not telling me. Instead, I felt humbled that they tried to keep my faith alive as long as possible.
I am not going to say that it works for everyone, but it did work for me. I hope my children will understand one day why we kept this alive for them.
Have a wonderful holiday season everyone.