whirlaround.

There's a part of me that is deeply sad to say that I don't believe in Santa anymore. I haven't believed in him since 5th grade, and yet, even when we all knew he wasn't real, my family still pretended he was. We would leave milk and cookies on Christmas Eve knowing full well that it was my dad who got up in the middle of the night to eat them. My sister and I would have trouble going to sleep, because "Santa" was coming, even though we knew he really wasn't. Now, this year, we are not putting out milk and cookies, so my dad doesn't have to disturb his sleep to get up and throw them away. Christmas Eve night will be just like any other night, there will be no special visitor. And on Christmas morning, all of our gifts are from "Mom" or "Dad", there will be no boxes marked "From Santa". Even though all of this has been unnecessary in the past, because even with doing all these things in preparation for Santa, we still never believed, not doing these Christmas Eve traditions this year just seems to make it so final. And some of the magic is gone. Without milk and cookies, without trouble sleeping, and without gifts from "Santa", I feel like this Christmas will be a little less magical, a little less joyous, and a little less child-like. Through the years since 5th grade, we knew he wasn't real, and yet we pretended he was, and so we had all the excitment and little, fleeting glances of what it was like to be a child who believed again. Deep down, we knew that Santa's existence was, in fact, a lie, but we still kept his Christmas spirit alive. It was what made Christmas, Christmas! Now, that all of these normalcies are gone, my sister and I are just two teenagers who don't believe in Santa Claus and can't even pretend anymore. For me, that is depressing, because it means that the child-like spirit and joy of Christmas is gone from our hearts, there's no one to stay awake for, there's no unexpected gifts under the tree, and there is no one to eat the milk and cookies. It is a sad day when Santa disappears for good from a household, which is why I wish I had a little sibling that still believed with an innocent, pure, childish, and naive little heart. But, since I don't, this Christmas will be a day of being with family and wishing Happy Birthday to Jesus. I hope the big jolly man in the red suit is still in the hearts of people somewhere, because once the dream of childhood is lost, this world will be a sadder place.