The fear of Christmas

'Tis the season. Deck the Halls and all that jazz.

I used to fear Christmas during my childhood from the ages of 4 to 8. It was a terrifying event of recounting all the possible bad things I had done during the year.  There was in my mind a distinct possibility of having all my sins made publicly known as Santa wouldn't give me a gift, and all would see it. 

I was raised Catholic during my formative years. I am not recovering Catholic either, I enjoyed going, the classes, and I revered the nuns, they had such a seemingly beautiful and quiet life of devotion. The priests were more remote, but seemed to be so filled with joy and knowledge I couldn't help but love them. These people and my mother taught me about God. He was Awesome defined, he was part of The Trinity, and he could wipe out the world.  He knew what I thought, when I thought it, and could save me from myself and the world.

He was terrifying. There was no place to hide from God. Not even my closet. All my most inner secrets were known. While I loved the Church, I was terrified of God and I felt guilty. It was all so complicated. And I was only 5. I also knew there was no other Church. It was the one and only.

Then there was Santa. He wasn't God, but he knew whether I had been bad or good, and would act accordingly. It seemed pretty God like. He was nearly as terrifying as God. He wasn't a priest as he was married, so maybe he had fallen from purity. Then someone explained he was a saint. Being 5 I didn't quite get the difference.

Then there were elves. No one could explain those. There were photos of demons and the Devil tempting God and his Son, they seemed very elfish. They had weird ears, weren't a normal human color, and were fast and deft. Were the elves exiled demons? Were my gifts being made by demons that were serving in all eternity making gifts for good little boys and girls? Should I play with the toys if they were made from demons? Were they trying to tempt me? 

Needless to say when I figured out Santa wasn't real (well he doesn't have elves and is quite dead and doesn't deliver presents) I was quite relieved. I had gotten gifts for years and always secretly wondered if they were possessed by exiled penance serving demons. They were only from my family. (And yes, I know what you are thinking, deep down there is a difference between my family and demons)

Now one would think I wouldn't torture my children with Christmas, Santa and God, but I have in parts. I haven't really taught much about God. I don't go to Church anymore and have explored many other thoughts and theories of religions. Do I believe? Maybe, maybe not, that is between God and I. My children will discover their own path.

I have kept Santa alive and well for my children, but they don't have to fear him. He will always bring them a gift. I have taught them that all children and people are inherently good, just sometimes our actions don't bring good. What I did teach them (or at least the older one thus far) is that if you believe (or at least pretend to believe) then Santa will come. He will also leave his exiled demon elves at home. Hopefully.