No Control But Self-Control

Like most children, when I was little, I believed in the tooth fairy and Santa Clause. I also believed that the characters on Sesame Street were real and that I was going to be a Ninja Turtle when I grew up. Who wouldn’t want to hang out with their friends and eat pizza and practice karate? Anyhow, I had this big idea of what my future would be like, and I knew that one of the first steps in getting there was to meet the Ninja Turtles.
So, one eventful evening, mom and my grandma took me to Ninja Turtles live. I was able to see the Ninja Turtles with my own eyes and after we got done with the show, I was full of excitement and energy. We got into the car and were driving back from the show when my grandma asked me if I knew that the Ninja Turtles weren’t real. I was in shock. How could she say such a thing? Maybe, she just didn’t know the truth. I believe I argued for a bit before finally conceding, and then, my grandma broke the news to me that Sesame Street wasn’t real either. I was devastated. My entire life’s plans went up in smoke. What was a kid to do?
I mulled over this new revelation, feeling the sadness of knowing that my favorite characters were fake and that I would never have the chance to meet them. Soon the holidays approached and like I was on most weekends, I was at my grandma’s house. Now, at that time, I am pretty sure I had forgiven my grandma for telling me the truth about the Ninja Turtles and Sesame Street. She was a very honest person, and I was sure that she just wanted me to know the truth.
So, I did what I normally did while I was at my grandma’s house. I watched television and drew pictures. I even hunted under the couch cushions for money that my uncles left behind. That’s when I saw it. There was a present from Santa sitting in between the couch and the coffee table.
I was astounded. How did it get there? Santa wasn’t supposed to arrive for a few weeks. Maybe, it was from last year, but if it was, why hadn’t anyone opened it? Questions flooded my curiosity, and I decided to ask my grandma. I don’t remember my exact wording when I told her about this present, but I think I went up and told her that I knew Santa wasn’t real. Now, I’m sure that when I did this, I wasn’t ready for her response. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I expected quite the opposite, but my grandma’s response was loud and clear when she confirmed my suspicions.
So at this point, I had found out that Santa wasn’t real. The Ninja Turtles weren’t real, and Sesame Street wasn’t real. It didn’t take me that long to learn the truth about the Easter bunny and the Tooth Fairy. I was devastated. I no longer had the expectation of meeting any of these fairy tale characters, and it almost felt as if some of the excitement of childhood had been taken from me.
Years later, I was talking to my little sister, who was still fairly young at that point, and she was telling me how people in her class were telling her that Santa wasn’t real. I was angry. How could these kids take away my sister’s experience of believing in Santa? She was way too young to learn the truth, and I was determined to do something about it. I told my sister that the kids in her class weren’t telling her the truth, but she didn’t believe me. She still had her doubts, and my sister was smart, so I knew that I would have to do something to prove to her that Santa was real.
That’s when the idea came to me to write letters to her from the elves. How could she deny Santa if there were elves at home leaving her letters? I started writing different letters to her. I used a new style of handwriting, so she didn’t recognize the fact that I was really the one that had written these letters, and I left them all over the house for her. Her excitement came back, and she suddenly believed in Santa again.
I did this year after year until she was about eight or nine and old enough to understand the truth about Santa. My sister loved this process. She would get excited about the letters. She would search for them, and the joy of waiting for Santa finally came back. I loved this too, because I knew how hard it was to find out that Santa wasn’t real at such a young age while other people my age scrambled around in excitement, and I was glad that I had the opportunity to preserve this childhood milestone for her.