The Gift of Magic

The Gift of Magic

Well the elf has arrived at our house.  He’s not THE Elf on the Shelf – he’s Chritopher Pop-in-Kins, which is just a different, less snitchy version.  We all know I thought I’d never do the elf because I’m kind of lazy about Christmas things like that.  But I actually think I love this little guy!  I know my boys are only 5 and 2, but N in particular is so smart, so practical.  When he asked me to help him tell K who Santa is last week, I actually felt silly trying to get them to buy that he is magical and has flying reindeer and can go all over the world in one night.  I keep waiting for him to call b.s. on me, but he doesn’t.  And now with this 12″ pose-able elf – it requires such a complete suspension of reality to believe that he is anything more than plastic and wire.

That is the truly fantastic, amazing thing about children.  They believe with everything in their little bodies.  Magic is so very magical and mysterious and wonderful, and they behold it with the light in their eyes shining so brightly, so free of skepticism.  No one has told them yet that there are impossibilities.   I sure as hell am not going to be that person.

You run into those adults who for some reason don’t like to let kids be little.  They feel like it’s their duty to tell little ones how it really is – how cruel and un-magical life has been to them and surely will be to every child they cross.  And there are older children equally eager to squash the glow of little minds.  I feel sorry for them, because I  know it comes down from someone having taken away their glow too early as well, but I’d also like to protect my boys from these walking rain clouds.

I don’t want to know at what age that light of belief fades against the force of disillusionment.  Right now, all I want is to see them run down the stairs to see where little Christopher the elf has posed himself each morning, and I want to give them liberty to believe all the wildly implausible stuff that Christmas gives to little children.  They won’t get to keep that fleeting gift for long, and once it is gone, it won’t return again until they have children of their own to share it with them.  So I thank N and K for that – for giving me back the gift of that childhood Christmas magic in spite of life’s efforts to demystify everything that is bright.

8 responses »

  1. Aww, go easy on me! I like to think I’m not stealing my children’s innocence by abstaining from the whole Santa thing. Besides, some would say that my emphasis on the birth of the Christchild at Christmastime is a suspension of belief and magical too!

    • I’m surprised by that, Nicky! Do you abstain and just say he doesn’t come to your house, or do your kids know he doesn’t exist? Although I certainly admire your conviction to the actual reason for Christmas, and agree that some (like me lol) feel that is as suspension of belief and magical too 🙂

      • Yeah, they know that we give them presents and we tell them it’s in honor of the Wise Men who brought presents to baby J. The funny thing is that even though I TELL THEM Santa is just for fun and Jesus is real, they still believe Santa IS real. 🙂

        The trick is that I don’t want Finn to ruin it for kids who are allowed to believe Santa is real, so I try to impress upon him that even though Santa is a fun story, other kids believe he’s real. But I guess the whole point is moot since Finn doesn’t believe me anyway…

        I spent a lot of time overseas as a kid and we used to tell stories about Kris Kringle/Christkindl–putting our shoes out and all. It was fun, but I knew it was my parents. 🙂 It was STILL fun. I might tell them about the real Saint Nicholas because that’s pretty cool folklore too…

      • I guess more than anything it’s about believing in SOMETHING 🙂 And also not ruining whatever that belief is for other kids! I wouldn’t want my kids going to school and saying Jesus isn’t real, either, for that matter.

      • Wait, the Internet is telling me that in Germany the Christmas Man (Weihnachtsmann) comes and puts stuff in your shoes. My parents totally got that one messed up. 🙂

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