I was just recalling a time when my friend's dad asked me what Santa brought me for Christmas. I must have been young enough where it was possible to still believe, but old enough to have a good deal of logic. I sat there and smiled because I didn't know what to say. Or maybe I didn't smile. Likely I had a look of panic and a tense smile that was moments away from turning into the ugly mouth that crumples before crying. I can find the words in writing, but in real life I'm usually stumped. I'd never believed in Santa but I couldn't say that there was no Santa in front of my friend! I didn't want to be the one to spill the secret. I also couldn't tell him what "Santa" did give me, because in knowing that Santa didn't exist I would be lying. I was such an honest kid that I didn't even know how to lie. I couldn't figure out how to say what my presents were without admitting they were from my parents. Finally I said, "I don't know" because I just didn't know what to say.
I think of that often and still wonder what my friend's dad thought of that strange little girl who didn't know what Santa brought her for Christmas.
Happy Holidays! Santa told me that I should say that.
