December 16, 2004

  • The Santa Claus Legend

    Nine days to

    Christmas –


    The
    Legend

    of
    Santa Claus

    The legend of Saint Nicholas has been growing and
    changing since the Middle Ages.  He has morphed into Sinterklaas,
    Father Christmas, Kris Kringle, Santa Claus and other forms in various
    parts of the planet.

    According to the Kids’ Domain:

    “St. Nicholas was born in 271 AD and died around December 6, 342 or 343
    AD near the Asia Minor (Turkey) town of Myra,. where he later became
    Bishop. He performed many good deeds and was a friend to the poor and
    helpless, and upon his death, myths soon sprang up about him all around
    the Mediterranean Sea. He was reputed to be able to calm the raging
    seas, rescue desperate sailors, help the poor and downtrodden, and save
    children. He was soon named as the patron saint of sailors, and when
    Myra was overthrown, his bones were transported by sailors to Bari, a
    port in Italy, where a tomb was built over the grave and became the
    center of honor for St. Nicholas. From here the legend spread on around
    to the Atlantic Coast of Europe and the North Sea to become a European
    holiday tradition regardless of religion.”

     Fordham University’s online Mediaeval Sourcebook translates the story of Nicholas’s death from Jacobus de Voragine’s Golden Legend (written ca.1275, pub. 1470):

    “And when it pleased our Lord to have him depart out this world, he prayed our Lord that
    he would send him his angels; and inclining his head he saw the angels come to him,
    whereby he knew well that he should depart, and began this holy psalm: In te domine
    speravi, unto, in manus tuas, and so saying: Lord, into thine hands I commend my spirit,
    he rendered up his soul and died, the year of our Lord three hundred and forty- three,
    with great melody sung of the celestial company. And when he was buried in a tomb of
    marble, a fountain of oil sprang out from the head unto his feet; and unto this day holy
    oil issueth out of his body, which is much available to the health of sicknesses of many
    men. And after him in his see succeeded a man of good and holy life, which by envy was put
    out of his bishopric. And when he was out of his see the oil ceased to run, and when he
    was restored again thereto, the oil ran again.”

    My
    parents tried to use the Santa Claus legend to convince me to be a
    “good girl,” as many parents do.  I was told that if I was good
    I’d get nice presents, and if I was bad there would be coal instead of
    fruits and nuts in my stocking, and my prettily wrapped presents would
    contain only rocks.

     I remember the day I got wise to their lies.  I even recall
    the moment that it all fell together for me.  I think I was three
    years old.  I hadn’t started to school yet.  My mother was
    holding my hand as we waited for the light to change to cross a street
    in downtown San Jose.  We were Christmas shopping.  I’d been
    on the lap of various “Santas” in three or four different department
    stores.

     They all smelled different, and certainly looked different from each other. 
    Most of the Santas wore bright red in rough fabrics, but one of them
    had a suit of deep wine colored velvet.  There were some fairly
    incredible elements in the story itself, such as the idea that this old
    guy kept track of every girl and boy in the world and judged our
    behavior.  It just did not hold up to logic in my young mind.

    I kept my thoughts to myself as we crossed the street and entered yet
    another store.  Riding up the escalator, I caught sight of another
    Santa with a line of kids waiting to sit on his lap.  I gave a tug
    on my mother’s hand and said to her, “There really isn’t a real Santa
    Claus, is there?”


    She paused, seeming a bit flustered, and then insisted that there was,
    indeed, a real Santa, and these men impersonating him were only
    Santa’s helpers.

     As we stood in that line and watched the “Santa’s helper” in an elf
    costume handing candy canes to the kids and guiding them off the stage
    as they came off Santa’s lap, I questioned her more.  She kept
    replying with flimsy lies.  That night when Daddy got home from
    work, I asked him.  He wouldn’t lie to me.  I was then free
    of at least one of the bogeymen of childhood.

    As a child, I was an insufferable know-it-all.  I wasted not a
    moment telling every kid I knew that there was no Santa Claus, that it
    was all a trick to make us be good.  Their parents didn’t like
    that, oh no!  My parents heard about it from some of my friends’
    parents, and they tried to enlist
    me in the Santa Claus conspiracy.  My father let me read the, “Yes
    Virginia…” story that was reprinted in our newspaper.  Mama and
    Daddy explained how much “fun” kids had waiting for Santa, leaving out
    cookies and milk for him and all.

    They appealed to me as a reasoning adult, and I fell in line, the
    politically correct line.  I stopped telling kids there was no
    Santa Claus.  Instead, I took pleasure and pride in being in on
    the secret, part of the adult conspiracy.  But I never told any of
    my kids the Santa bullshit. 

    Doug and I have just been talking about his early school days when he
    first encountered children who believed in Santa Claus.  He
    recalls being in on the conspiracy and keeping the secret, not spoiling
    the “fun” for the other kids.  I seriously question whether it is
    actually fun to be afraid of any bogey man, even a “right jolly old
    elf” who lives at the North Pole and brings toys to all the good girls
    and boys.

    Someone asked me a few days ago how the John Lennon Acoustic
    album sounds.  In one word:  intimate.  John is said to
    have hated his voice.  I love it, because it comes straight from
    his heart, with feeling.  When I heard the opening chords of Woman
    is the Nigger of the World
    , I cheered.  Less than half a minute
    later (the track is only 42 seconds long), I was crying. 

    Yoko dedicated this release to the future guitarists, saying that John
    always played from his heart and she hopes they will learn to do the
    same.  Liner notes include chord progressions for all the songs,
    and in the back are chord diagrams.

    I could not begin to give this CD an objective review.  John
    Lennon’s philosophy resonates with me, and his music was the soundtrack
    of the most interesting years of my life.  I will play this music
    over and over again. 

    The two companion tracks, Luck of the Irish and John Sinclair,
    are worth the price of the CD, all by themselves, especially if you’re
    Irish, were once a hippie, or have any sympathy for the downtrodden
    masses of the planet.  Working Class Hero left me breathless the first time through, and Cold Turkey makes my needle tracks itch every time I hear it.  That’s not necessarily a good thing, but I can handle it.

Comments (23)

  • Yes.

    –End of Line–

  • Know it all indeed… And I suppose there’s no such critter as the chocalate Easter bunny….
    Covers ears cuz I don’t wanna hear it… lalalalalalalalalalalala

  • Did anyone notice that that Kids’ Domain piece implied that he became Bishop of Myra after he died?

  • I dont’ know when I discovered that Santa was mythical.  I remember being told the same tale, though – that all those different Santas I saw around were his “helpers”.  I cherish what I tend to think of as the spirit of Santa – the giving, the compassion – but I’ve never held my kids to the be good or you get coal thing.

    Nick figured it out a couple of years ago.  Maddie was quite small, and I asked him to play along for a bit.  He was cool with that.  He went so far as to write his own letter to Santa this year when she did – using the proper letter writing techniques he learned in school this year.  heh

    There’s a blog in that. 

    I need to email you later this morning, once the kids are outta here.  Keep an eye out, okay?

  • I got banned from the local ‘community access’ radio for using the n-word as a similie ie ‘as in being treated like a n-word’. Despite a petition of over 100 people, and many requests by others to have me reinstated I’m still not allowed to be interviewed live and in person. It was not on the air either, but in a closed meeting.

    I’ve yet to properly blog about this as we are still hoping that the radio station’s Board of Directors finally meet to remove these restrictions. Ironically, rap music that uses the n-word as a mantra is okay though.

    Thanks for the Lennon review. I might buy it (or borrow it). Have you heard the Beatles Xmas 45s? That stuff is wacked!

  • You have named two of my fave JL songs – Woman is the Nigger of the World and Luck of the Irish are just really smart, you know?

  • The homeless man was in the library yesterday. ( a co-worker told me he was there last night).I did not even realize he was there. I expected if he was there that he would seek me out and start talking to me like usual. Hopefully he was not watching me the whole time. If he was, I hope I was entertaining.

  • thanks for visiting.  i love this place….

  • Hi sweety–lots I could say about your blog, but I have this NPD time pressure thing going, which is not entirely spurious, since I want to do the poem AND the 12 days, and get back to Mitch, AND check the boards for messages for me, plus check my own guestbook.  Your knife message broke up pretty badly, but I got the gist of it. . . plus, I seem to have this fibro-finger thing going, took me four tries to get logged in–that NEVER happens.  Oh well. …

  • Thank you for visiting…this is a wonderful, wonderful post… I’m glad I was here to read it!

  • Thanks so much for the advice!  You have a great weekend!

  • Okay, I perpetrated–uh, posted, my twelve days.  Woo hoo, something to offend almost everyone!

  • So I’m not the only Momma around who foiled the whole Santa gig.  There is safety in numbers and I feel a little less guilty although I know that in the end, lies should be saved for bad haircuts and to save feelings.  They aren’t meant for adding magic to a perfectly magical time of the year.  I love you! 

  • In some ways I wish that I hadn’t allowed the “Santa” myth to perpetuate itself in our family.  Maybe I should blog it …

  • “As a child, I was an insufferable know-it-all…”
    o_o   oh surely not.

    i kind of enjoyed perpetuating the santa claus bs.  we had fun with it.

    i still remember watching for rudolph in the night sky. 

  • I think I knew, as far back as I can remember, that Kris Kringle was a hokey thing.  But for some reason I played along — I think I thought it would keep my folks happy.

    My baby sister played along til she was in her teens!  :O

  • I think that this may be the last year that either of the kids truly “believes” in Santa.  When Adam asked me a few years ago if there was a Santa I told him that all I knew what that only people who believed in him received a present from him   Darian was only little at that point and I like doing the Santa thing….and they like leaving out the milk and cookie, the carrot for rudolph, etc.  I get a kick out of watching the path of santa on the NASA site every year with them…. rambling.  There IS a Santa Claus, just not in the exact way that he is portrayed

  • I have struggled with the Santa myth! When I vowed not to “do” that to my youngest, my MIL was miffed. I compromised; in the beginning, I told him that Santa represented giving gifts and expecting none in return. I told him a lot of people dressed up to play Santa but that there wasn’t a real person. I said anyone can play Santa, mostly Mom’s and Dad’s, but that he could be a Santa when he gave gifts to others without expecting them back. I went so far as explain that gifts could be doing things for people, too. I’m sure he was somewhat confused, but at least he never held on that idea that anyone was “watching” or judging him. While most kids spent the years from 5-8 or so trying to figure out of Santa was real, my son was wondering WHY kids thought Santa was real. Then he tried to convince me that I was mistaken; he told me he heard reindeer on the roof. My MIL was certain it was only evidence that I was robbing him of one element of his childhood. She got so frustrated with me, she started a new family tradition of spending the actual holiday traveling, and exchanging gifts at a later time.

    My co-worker from India is charmed by this tradition and is teaching her daughter. Interesting so many of us were disillusioned with it, but so many keep it going.

    Last year I too wrote a big piece on this subject, but I could never bring myself to post it.

  • I don’t think encouraging your child to have an active imagination is a bad thing. I remember one of my friends was a Jehovah Witness. In the early years of school, his parents told the school that if the class was engaging in any seasonal activities that he was to be put in the hall or in another room. Many times I saw him sitting in the hall all alone at his desk drawing. He was the saddest looking kid I ever saw. I would go into our classroom where the kids were engaging in art and crafts and saw all the happiness on their faces. I always felt so sorry for that little poor soul who wasn’t allowed to engage in any fun. Even though Santa isn’t real, it didn’t hurt me to learn the truth as I got older but gave me so many wonderful memories. Even though I stopped believing the traditions still went on, it wasn’t a total loss. It all depends on how you were raised also, my parents went out of their way to build traditions and focus on family. Yes it was wonderful getting presents on Christmas Day but all the wonderful things my parents did to build memories is what I remember and have carried on with my children. My children are all older now and they love being home for Christmas because it wasn’t boring. We made gingerbread houses, stringed popcorn for the tree, made hand made gifts, did arts and crafts, went caroling, saw Christmas plays. It was about togetherness. My daughter and her husband want to come to my home for the holidays because of the warm memories. I have to encourage her to build her own but it is nice knowing that my children love being home.

  • @ItzaRoos - Sometimes parents forget what it is like to be a kid. I wasn’t disillusioned, I was imaginative and had fun. That is what it is all about, just having fun. There is time later in life to worry about adult stuff. Sometimes I think parents force their children to grow up too fast and it is due to their own issues. My family and my kids all grew up fine, not devestated that there wasn’t a Santa. If you are a stable parent then your children will grow up to be stable and have a healthy out look in life. Don’t read too much into it. Don’t force your child to grow up. Allow them to believe what they want, to experience life on their own. Allow them to ask questions and when they do be truthful but not hurtful. I don’t foce my children to believe in anything but themselves. They made decisions for themselves. I just carried on fun traditions. One of my children learned that Santa wasn’t real long before the others but I told her about St. Nicolas and that is all she needed to know, “It was about giving and helping and people are just carrying on the memory as best as they know how.” She wasn’t scarred and Christmas had more of a meaning to her. I don’t believe in man organized religion and do not preach religionous anything to my children but allow them to find their own beliefs and if they believe in God or Jesus then that is their right. Sometimes you have to put yourself in your childs world and look at the things you said and ask yourself, “What I said, did it help them make their own decision or did it force my own beliefs on them?” 

  • @Traceyde - Your meaning here is obscure:

    “I don’t think encouraging your child to have an active imagination is a bad thing.”

    Are you implying that lying to children “encourages” them?  …or that a delusion is the same as “an active imagination”?

    @Traceyde - Your tone in this reply to one of my readers is defensive.  Are you aware that defensiveness is pathological and usually indicates buried feelings of inadequacy, inferiority, or guilt?

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