The day Santa died

Kim and I have always told Kent Santa exists. Almost every kid is told the same, and get presents delivered by the fat, white bearded guy each year. He gets all the credits, but kids are happy.

With Kent getting into first grade, he has been hearing things from his peers. Things like, “Santa doesn’t exist”, “Santa isn’t real”, so he began asking about it. About a month ago I told him his peers weren’t right, when he commented about it, and that by not believing in Santa they might not get presents next time. Kent dropped the topic.

Yesterday, he asked me, “Tell me the truth Papá, is Santa real?” I do not lie. But even if I ever will, I will never lie to my kid, no matter what it takes. I had to tell him the truth. Yes, he was disappointed, sad perhaps, a bit, but then he asked, “Will I still get presents?”. “Of course!”, I replied. Light came to his eyes and face again, and life went on.

Thank you, Santa, for the good memories.