When the kids were little (mainly Jonathon) the idea of a fat white guy judging him and then sneaking into his home in the middle of the night to either reward or punish him- always made him scream and cry every time we’d pass the “Santa photos” in the mall. Always being some form of agnostic and then atheist- I didn’t want the kids to be left out of the holidays until they could decide for themselves whether or not to celebrate; so I tried to incorporate as much of the mainstream traditions into our home as I could. When we moved to Salem, I was always too poor too buy a tree (even a table top one) so we’d cut one out of holiday wrapping paper and cut out decorations to place on the tree I’d tape to our front door (until we eventually got a mini tree and then handed down a family tree that has since been lost from letting Ash borrow it on her first year of moving out… :-\) I even tried to nudge Santa into the traditions a few days earlier and he’d deliver their gifts on the solstice, complete with eating the cookie and drinking the milk (that’s how he gave all gifts to all kids around the world- they didn’t all celebrate Christmas)
Anyway- the idea of Santa wound up being creepy and I didn’t feel like defending it or convincing Jonathon otherwise, because if you think about it- he’s right. Since Santa was not welcome in our home and I still wanted to surprise my children with gifts, I made up a story of the Yule fairies who enjoyed flying in at the end of the year to give thanks to the kids for brightening their year much like the returning sun.
When J got older, the BIG gifts were saved for his end of November birthday and Yule was for sharing treats, saying good bye to a year and welcoming back the sun. He still wanted to hold onto the fairy tradition though. They still leave little gifts in the stockings (since they are so little, they could only fill up the stockings) and in the bowl of sugar, since they love sweets- he’ll see their tiny foot prints and little wing marks.
Even to this day when Jonathon passes a child crying about having to sit on Santa’s lap, J will look at me and shake his head, “She needs a fairy.”
