A Christmas Tale of How I learned the Truth is not always what it should be.

When I was 5 years old and in Kindergarten, I found myself with all my friends and classmates on the playground. They were all very excited that Christmas was getting close. I listened to them and I was like they have to know the truth, so I told them. “You know, Santa’s not real”. Oh how my friends stopped what they were doing, one may have even gasped out loud. Some got angry telling me to take it back and before I knew it, I had the entire class circled around me in the playground.

Now put away those Gangster thoughts, they weren’t jumping me and putting me down for my blasphemy about Santa (but only the Good Lord knows how close they were to doing that). Instead what was happening, is I was going through it with them. Telling them how I knew Santa wasn’t real. And NO, it was not that my parents told me this. In fact they preached the Santa tale. They did their part, teaching me about Christmas and how Santa brought toys to all the good boys and girls. A wonderful tale, even I bought into it at first, but I was a keen observer.

So with everyone around me, I simply started to ask questions. I’m sure Perry Mason (had he been real), would have been impressed. I asked, when you get your presents from you Mom and Dad with the ones from Santa, do you notice the wrapping paper? Many of my classmates at this moment paused, got quiet, some looked confused. I went on, is it different paper? Or is it the same paper like your other presents? What about the ribbon, is it the same or different? How about the Bow, is it the same as the others? What about the name card on the present, is it the same, different? What about the writing, is it the same color as the writing on the other cards? Does it look like the same hand writing as Mom and Dad, or is it different? Oh yes, as I said, I have always been very observant and continued to present these little telltale signs I had noticed. Things that led me to conclude that the Big Red Man was a Farce.

As I looked about the circle of kids surrounding me, I could see it, the looks on their faces as they begin to put the pieces together. One by one, I could see the logic dawning on them. One of them started to cry, then another, then more. Some were really upset, we're talking full out bawling, loud screams, etc.. If ever this was going to go Gangster, now was the time. So much for the saying about “the truth shall set you free”.

Luckily for me our teacher and her assistants who were nearby came running over to see what was happening. This in turn prompted a whole bunch of emotional 5 year olds to start telling how I said Santa wasn’t real. The teachers quickly assumed I was being a Mean and Malicious Brat. <sigh> I was only trying to share the truth, I tried to explain, but was cut off, they didn’t’ want to hear it. I was sent to see the Principals office and my Mom was called and I was going to get mine, it was a depressing moment for sure. 

As I was waiting for my Mom to come get me, I had to sit there and listen as they called the other Parents of my classmates, one by one, explaining to them that they had an issue and what it was. While I could hear only one side of the conversation, I could tell there were a lot of upset Parents. FINALLY, my Mother arrived and we got to go talk with the Principle, along with the School Counselor and my Kindergarten teacher. Once they explained to my Mother what happened, who was quite shocked and not looking very happy, I was asked by our Principle, Mr. Giorsetti, why was I telling the other kids Santa wasn’t real? I told him because I knew it was true and went on to re-explain my logic.  I remember everyone’s expressions changing as I explained it, how did this 5 year old kid catch on with all that? Mr. Giorsetti actually laughed.

It was then explained to me that the story of Santa Clause was a tradition that went way back and was used to help teach young boys and girls to be good and not naughty. Well, Thank you Mr. Giorsetti for explaining that to me, because it finally started to make some sense, finally, that missing piece I had kind of been looking for about why was everyone lying about this made up man?

Can't say it was all bad I guess. My younger sister and cousins reaped some benefit from it. All their presents were wrapped in different paper, with different bows, different colored ink and different handwriting (I think it was my Dad using his left hand, but that's another tale), so they got to have their Santa Dreams a bit longer. I even went on to play Santa in a couple of School plays, oh how the truth mocks us sometimes. So to anyone from the Morning Kindergarten class of 1971 in Globe...I apologize.

Merry Christmas everyone,

Ron