Some of the groups I’m in have posed questions about when is it too old to believe in Santa. While the maiden has on and off mentioned she still believes over the years since she has gotten older, this year she never mentioned anything until Christmas Eve. She wrote a note, poured a glass of milk, left out a Christmas cake, and went to bed.
Perhaps with the year we’ve all had, she needed to believe in something good. The Crone was supposed to be on Santa duty, because she has a private room downstairs – and it is easier for her to move around without detection then myself – who sleeps upstairs and down the hall from the maiden.
At 6:45 a.m. the Maiden came in to wake me. I wasn’t overly impressed, but at 7:00 a.m. we went downstairs. There on the counter was the full glass of milk and the unopened Christmas Cake. My heart sank, just as the maiden’s did. Either the Crone forgot or she decided not to do anything. She still has a hard time accepting the disability and is always asking the maiden when is she going to grow up. Or reminds her to act like an adult.
The maiden was very quiet but I could tell by her face that she was wounded. I tried to help ease the hurt, by suggesting maybe he was just too busy with COVID restrictions and could only get to the under 18s. We sat on the couch to wait until 8:00 a.m. when I told her she could wake her grandmother (and it would give me time to figure something out).
It was then we noticed a stocking that wasn’t with the other three. I figured it was part of mine (as I recognized the stocking) but I said to the maiden, “Maybe he left that for you? Maybe he just didn’t have time to stop to eat and drink and just left a stocking.” She perked up a bit. I was willing to give up whatever was in that stocking.
When the Crone got up, I said “Santa didn’t drank the milk or eat the cake … but we think he left a stocking.” In that voice that says something is up so play along. Totally went over the Crone’s head. She said, “No that’s your stocking” (meaning me).
Once again, disappointment registered on the maiden’s face. I had to act quick so I sent her upstairs for something while I quickly pulled a book out of her stocking and hid it. We opened our gifts. She seemed happy with it all. We ate breakfast. I asked her to empty the dishwasher (it’s her job). She said “Screw you”.
She has never said that to me before. She has said it to her grandmother a couple times lately. So new phrase. New phase. I chose to ignore it. Not saying it didn’t hurt to be told that. But I let it go as it likely came from a place of hurt and disappointment and it wasn’t the place to talk about appropriate language and going over different ways to express disappointment.
As we got ready for bed later that night I told her to leave another glass of milk and cake out just in case Santa was too busy and maybe the adults who still believe get visited on Christmas night, not Eve. She didn’t want to waste another glass of milk. I told her don’t worry about wasting the milk, just leave half a glass. We then made her bed with her new Pokémon bedding set she got for Christmas and she settled in.
Warning: skip this next paragraph and the next if you are a believer.
I texted the Crone from upstairs and told her to wait a half hour and then please get the book I hid, take a drink of the milk and piece of the cake and leave a little note (remembering to write with her left hand as her handwriting is very unique). Although she didn’t do it the night before, and I wondered if she would tonight, it was still easier for the Crone to do this as she has a room downstairs. I run the risk of getting caught creeping down the stairs.
While I’m not thrilled my 22 year old still believes, this is when I must remember dysmaturity and disability. If she wants to believe for a few more years why would I take that magic away.
When I went downstairs this morning, before anyone else was awake, I found this, and my heart was happy.
I woke the maiden at 9:00 a.m. and excitedly let her know Santa had been. She smiled when she got downstairs and as she read the note. She looked at me and said: “He called me a super girl!” I said you are! Then she hugged me.
She read the note to her grandmother and the smile on her face warms my heart that she truly feels like she wasn’t forgotten now. All is right with the world again for a little while. And isn’t that what the magic of Christmas is about? She was more concerned about him drinking some milk, having a snack and writing a note … then she really was about any gifts. She was more concerned that someone remembered who she was and that she was important enough to acknowledge.
Does your child or adult still believe? I mentioned in one of my responses on a group I posted this story in that she may or may not believe in a few more years. It’s not up to me to take that away from her. She gets to choose when and if. And seriously after this year, we all need some belief in magic.
Merry Christmas and Happy Boxing Day . And may you never be too old to believe.