When Does the Magic End?

I remember when I believed in Santa Claus.  I remember living in Texas and I was probably six years old.  I got a doll for Christmas called Mary Muffin.  She was a handmade doll and she came with all kinds of clothes.  I loved this doll forever.  It was my favorite doll.  But I remember when I got her for Christmas.  She also came with matching shoes to match all of her different outfits.  But one of the shoes was missing that Christmas day.  But I remember that I wasn't disappointed.  In my little girl mind who believed in all things magic, Iexcused the missing shoe thinking that it must have fallen from Santa's sleigh when he was high above the houses.  I thought my doll shoe was somewhere in the world all by itself.  But that was okay because Santa does not make mistakes very often.  I remember so vividly believing that.  Even years later when my mom told me that the doll had been purchased by my grandmother and given to me, in my mind that shoe still was AWOL in the world having fallen from Santa's sleigh. 

The magic ended when my cousin told me there was no Santa Claus.  I was 9 years old.  We had just moved from Texas to Pennsylvania.  My cousin, Missy, thought that it was ridiculous that I still believed in Santa.  She was very worldly and knowledgable, even though she was a few months younger than me.  I still wanted to believe.  So I played along for ever.  I pretended that it was Santa who brought my gifts.  In the back of my mind I still imagined those gifts riding on Santa's sleigh headed for my home every Christmas Eve.  It was usually a doll that I wanted.  I played with dolls until I was way too old.

As I was lying in bed the other night I was thinking about how wonderful Christmas is.  Now that I am a parent it seems even more magical.  I get to play the part I have dreamed of.  I get to make my children's dreams come true.  When I wrap each gift, I think of the look on their faces when they open it.  When I remember the many Christmas mornings waking up to the lights of the tree, and the taste of hot chocolate, sticky buns and scrapple...  I try to make the memories for my children just as magical.

So, I guess, the magic hasn't ever really ended.  It was just put on hold for a little while until I could conjur it up again in my own heart.  The true meaning of Christmas is never lost in my heart.  I know the importance of Christ's birth.  And I know that the commerciality of Christmas has gotten out of control.  But every year at this time, even when the rest of the year might not have gone as planned.  Even when things feel so tough we will never get through it.  There is this one night and one day of the year, where magic is real for everyone.  That is what I want to think of.  The magic of the birth of Jesus Christ who was sent to this earth as a special gift to us.  The magic of families being together.  The magic of Santa Claus.  It is all important to my sanity throughout the year. 

I hope that even when my kids are grown and don't believe in Santa Claus, that the magic never ends.