‘Is Santa real?’ Agonising confession to my daughter

‘MUM, is Santa real?’ She needs to know. So. Very. Simply. I. Offer. A. Quiet. “No.” What happens next is just ... heartbreaking.

ON SUNDAY afternoon after the matinee of Mamma Mia, Grace and I held each other tight and cried tears of deep mourning.

For the last few days she had been asking me quiet questions like, “Where do you post the letters to Santa?” and “Where does Santa live?” Then there were statements like, “I don’t want anything for Christmas” and ‘I’m not writing a letter to Santa this year”, followed by the dreaded and inevitable question: “Is Santa Real?” To which I delicately replied, “What do you think?” to which she replied, “What do you think?” to which I replied, “What do you think?” And then the pause, the silence until I offered: “I believe in magic.” Pause. “I believe that magic happens, do you believe in magic?” She nodded yes.

I was hoping that was enough for my nearly 8-year-old, first-born child to hold onto her belief in Santa and magic. I was hoping to get at least one more Christmas of wide-eyed-gleeful- can’t-sleep-wake-up-early-Santa-visited-last-night-Christmas-present-joy.

Then the next day. A statement. “Some of my friends are saying Santa is not real.”

“Who?” I asked. She listed them all. So many of them. A million expletives pass through my mind, followed in quick succession by accusative questions. Who are the kids telling her this? Who are the parents telling their kids that Santa is not real? Why aren’t they telling their kids not to break the magic for other kids who still believe?

I reached for some words: “What do you think?” To which she replied: “What do you think?” And onto the merry-go-round we go again and the ride ends with, “I believe in magic, do you believe in magic?” She nodded yes again.

Then after a much looked forward to mother-daughter date to the musical Mamma Mia (buy a ticket, my my how can you resist it) she looked me in the eye and with a small voice asked: “Mum, is there something you need to tell me?” Silently we looked into each other’s eyes. She wanted me to say it and she wanted me not to say it. She wanted to believe that Santa was real, but she wanted to know the truth. She wanted to stay in the magical world of childhood innocence where she could believe in Tooth Fairies and Easter Bunnies and Santa and the Inherent Goodness Of Humanity and Everyone Is Great and The World Is Fair but she also wanted to know The Truth.

Both Pip and her daughter were devastated when she fessed up about Santa. Picture: iStock

My mind was racing, I’m not ready for this conversation, I’m not ready for this milestone, I’m not ready for magic to be not real, I’m not ready to let go, I am not ready for my baby girl to grow up — she is only 7 years, 11 months and 3 weeks old! I take a breath.

I look her in the eye. I tread gently. “What do you believe?” She quietly and hesitantly states “Santa is not real.”

I am not prepared for this moment. Ben is not home to help. Indigo is not home to distract us. I need to dial an Emergency Hotline for Parents Dealing With The Santa Question. I am reaching for an answer I don’t want to give.

“I believe in magic. Not the sort of magic where you can blink and make a castle appear, the sort of magic that we can make, the sort of magic that we hold within ourselves or that comes to us from nature.”

Pause. “Santa is not real?” She needs to know. So. Very. Simply. I. Offer. A. Quiet. “No.” Immediately her face crumples, her body doubles over and from deep within her rises a mournful cry. I scoop her up and place her on my lap, I rock her as she sobs, tears streaming on both our faces. We are in this loss together. She has no words. She didn’t really want to know that Santa was not real, but she didn’t want to be the only one of her friends who believed.

She struggles with feeling friendless at school and the girls she admires the most, her push-me-pull-you-sometimes-friends had told her that Santa was not real and she just didn’t want to feel left out. I cry with her. I mourn the loss of an innocent belief in magic and all that it entails because while she was living in the magic we could all visit her there and take a break from the reality of “adulting” and all that it entails. She gave us the magic.

Eventually she has more questions like, “Who buys the presents?” and “Are you also the Easter Bunny?”

I answer her questions but it’s not long before we start to speak about magic again and it’s then, that I start to realise something.

Magic is actually real, Santa is not real but that doesn’t mean that magic is not real.

“We experienced magic together today, when we saw Mamma Mia there was magic in the theatre, that creative team, the performers, the band and the crew all worked together and created magic for us.

“When we create art we create magic, when we have adventures together, or laugh ’til we cry, when I grew you and Indigo in my belly, when we give gifts to one another, when we do acts of kindness for one another — that’s all magic.”

This morning, after waking up to find that St Nicholas had visited and placed chocolates in their clogs, Grace gleefully scampered about with Indigo but looked at me and mouthed: “It was you.”

And later in the car: “When I’m an adult I’m never going to tell my kids that Santa is not real. It broke my heart.” I choke back: “It broke mine too.” It is in that moment that we make a pact to pretend that Santa is real.

And now she has a knowing. A sad and a happy knowing. An “I’m a part of the secret” knowing, an “I know something Indigo doesn’t know” knowing, but also there remains a dark shadow of “I wish I didn’t know” knowing. I wish she didn’t know too and the words of an Abba song from Mamma Mia lingers in my heart.

“Slipping through my fingers all the time,

I try to capture every minute

The feeling in it

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Do I really see what’s in her mind

Each time I think I’m close to knowing

She keeps on growing

Slipping through my fingers all the time”

Pip Buining is a Canberra-based mum-artist-educator, and is looking forward to Christmas this year.