Christmas has always held a special place in my heart. I’ve always loved the twinkling lights, the excitement of presents, and the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes with the season. And of course, the sappy Christmas stories—I couldn’t get enough of them! From heartfelt children’s books to cheesy holiday movies and TV specials, I devoured them all. They always left me teary-eyed and completely wrapped up in the magic and emotion of it all.

And I definitely believed in Santa Claus, even believing that I saw his sack of goodies in our living room in the very early hours of Christmas morning at age 5 as I ran down the hall to my sister’s room.  I would find out later that I hadn’t caught of glimpse of Santa’s sack, but rather the amazing bean bag chair he had brought me for Christmas that year. I believed the entire story of Santa Claus. 

In fact, looking back, I based so many things on the magic of Christmas, as depicted in the Christmas lore I was familiar with.  As crazy as it sounds, I based a lot of my life’s hopes and dreams on the Who’s from How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss, perpetually seeking the type of community I thought the Who’s personified (or whoified, I suppose).  I loved hearing stories of miracles and still do.  I deeply believed in the type of miracle that occurred in most Christmas movies – the Grinch turning from mean and bitter to nice and loving; the family finding the house on 34^th Street when they had given up hope; the bell ringing at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life to signify that an angel had just gotten his wings, Clarence in this case.  I actually watched the little-known correlated movie – It Happened One Christmas because it featured a girl in the main role.  And of course I loved the turnaround of Scrooge in A Christmas Carol.

I was smitten.  I believed in happiness conquering all. 

So when I had kids I assumed I would follow the traditional route – playing Santa Claus, showing them Christmas specials, sharing with them my love of Christmas miracles, all of it. 

But things were different than I imagined. 

Like it or not, our oldest children are trailblazers – what we do with them we will likely end up doing for all of our children.  And so their personalities (and our responses to them) pave the way.

One day, I was sitting with my oldest daughter (age 5) on a bench in the mall sharing a soft pretzel, when she looked at me and said the fateful words, “Mommy, is there really such a thing as Santa Claus?  I’ve never seen a reindeer with a red nose in animal encyclopedias.  Please tell me the truth.”  This girl was obsessed with animal encyclopedias and scoured them for hours and she was right – there was no reindeer with a glowing red nose. 

I panicked – my immediate, reflexive response was to dodge the question.  I responded that it was magical, not saying yes and not saying no.  But she persisted. 

While I don’t remember the exact details of that exchange, I do remember that the result of that small exchange has changed our Christmas traditions profoundly.

You see, while I know it’s fun to play the games of Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, even the Easter bunny, I always had a hard line that I wouldn’t cross and that line was outright lying to my kids.  I just wouldn’t do it.  Trust was more important to me than anything else.  Yes, this might be criticizable, but for all of my insecurities and doubts about parenting, of this I was absolutely certain: my kids would be able to trust me to not lie to them. 

So, ultimately I told her that there is, in fact, a Santa Claus, but he’s not a guy in a red suit necessarily.  Then I told something close to the following version of the Saint Nicholas story. 

A long, long time ago, there was a kind man named Nicholas. He lived in a big house in a town near the sea. Nicholas loved helping people. He had a big heart and liked to share what he had with others who needed it.

One day, Nicholas heard about a family that was very poor. They didn’t have enough money to buy food or clothes. The father was worried and didn’t know how to take care of his three daughters.

Nicholas wanted to help, but he didn’t want anyone to know it was him. So, one night, when everyone was asleep, Nicholas took a bag of gold coins and secretly dropped it through the family’s window. It landed in a stocking that was hanging by the fire to dry!

When the family woke up, they were so surprised and happy! They didn’t know who had helped them, but they were very grateful.

Nicholas kept helping people, always in secret, and everyone in the town loved him. They started to call him Saint Nicholas because he was so kind and generous.

I told her that anybody could be Santa Claus – that anybody that acted in the spirit of Saint Nicholas was in fact Santa Claus.  I told her that even we could be Santa Claus if we acted like Saint Nicholas, thought of others and surprised them.

Her immediate, unfiltered reaction that day in the mall was to clutch her little purse that contained her extremely meager allowance that she used to buy herself fun things, and she said, “I want to be Santa!  I’m going to go buy Bella (her friend) a present.”  And we headed for the Disney Store.  (Pretty sure I had to supplement that purchase, because a 5-year-old’s allowance in the Disney store didn’t go real far!).  But that exchange, along with inspiration from all of my favorite Christmas movies and books and shows, formed the traditions that we have now been doing for 18 years. 

It is also important to note that my next two daughters fully believed in Santa – they never asked, so I never actually had to lie to them and we were able to experience that fun together.

Tradition # 1: Santa Dinner

What We Do

Each year near Christmas, we find a restaurant that we enjoy and we go out to eat there.  When we first arrive, we tell the server that we are there to buy somebody a secret Santa dinner. 

With the restaurant manager’s and/or server’s help, we find a family that we think would be fun to buy for – typically they should be about halfway through their meal when we select them. 

The rules for the dinner we are buying ourselves are that nobody at our table is allowed to get anything to drink beyond water and nobody is allowed to order dessert or appetizers.  In other words, this is not a fancy meal to treat ourselves – it is about treating others.

We then ask the adopted family’s server not to let them know until it is naturally time for their check.  That way, it won’t affect their ordering – they don’t go crazy either ordering multiple meals to go and they don’t feel awkward ordering dessert or whatever they were planning to have. 

Once it’s time for the server to give them their check, they surreptitiously bring it to us, telling the family that Santa is covering the meal.  Which is true.  We are acting in the spirit of St. Nicholas which makes us Santa Claus for the evening. 

Note that secrecy is of the utmost importance.  We never want credit for doing this or for the family to find out who bought them dinner.  Our goal is to bring a little magic to somebody’s Christmas season.  We pay the bill, making sure to remember to tip their server generously (at least 30%).  That way, we are gifting both them and their server. Similarly, we will tip our server quite generously as well.

Why It’s Important

Plain and simple – it’s important to bring joy to others, and to bless them. In a world where it can seem sometimes difficult to find basic kindnesses, we hope to inspire and uplift not only those we are buying for, but also the servers and the managers of the restaurants.  I don’t know if anybody has taken their experiences and passed them on, but I like to believe that a few have.

What if You Feel Like You Can’t Afford It?

Now before you think that you don’t have enough money for this, we never had much money – at all.  We were a family of 5 living on quite a meager income, so I understand it might not be easy.  That doesn’t make it any less important.  The lesson of remembering to care about others was worth sacrificing whatever we had to sacrifice to make this happen. 

This does not have to get expensive.  If money is really tight, you can adapt this to be less expensive.  You can even do some version of this at a fast food restaurant, albeit really only at the drive through, by buying for the car behind you in line. 

What we’ve learned

One time, about 9 years ago, we were on our way out for this dinner (which we could scarcely afford – we were not thriving financially).  When we were parallel parking the car on the city street, a man and his family in a BMW that must have cost at least twice what the Subaru we were driving cost, rudely cut us off and took our parking space in front of the restaurant.  I judged the man to be pretentious and rude – he looked rich, and in my opinion, acted it.  When the server told us that they had found a family for us, we were excited to find out who it was.  It was the BMW family.  My heart sank and I made a rude comment (not proud of this, but it’s true).  One of my daughters, who was 12 at the time, said, “Mom, he might be hurting even if he has a lot of money.”  Wow.  Wow.  Wow.  She was right, I was wrong.  We approved the selection of this BMW family, buying dinner that night for a family that didn’t appear to need the money, but likely needed a little morale boost.  Just like the rest of us.

Tradition #2: Christmas Eve Santa Delivery

What We Do

The other tradition we started that year was to identify somebody that we could actually play Santa for on Christmas Eve.  By this I mean that we would deliver on Christmas Eve a package to somebody’s house.  Somewhere along the way, I read an amazing story that I will include here so you can get your own inspiration from it.  I cannot find any evidence of the originator of this story, so it will remain uncredited here.

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: “There is no Santa Claus,” she jeered. “Even dummies know that!”

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her “world-famous” cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. 

It had to be true. 

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. “No Santa Claus?” She snorted….”Ridiculous! Don’t believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let’s go.”  “Go? Go where, Grandma?” I asked. I hadn’t even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. 

“Where” turned out to be Kerby’s General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.  That was a bundle in those days. “Take this money,” she said, “and buy something for someone who needs it. I’ll wait for you in the car. “Then she turned and walked out of Kerby’s. 

I was only eight years old. I’d often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself.  The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to my church. 

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock’s grade-two class.  Bobby Decker didn’t have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn’t have a cough; he didn’t have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! 

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.  “Is this a Christmas present for someone?” the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down.  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied shyly. “It’s for Bobby.”  The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn’t get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, “To Bobby, From Santa Claus” on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker’s house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa’s helpers. 

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby’s house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.

Then Grandma gave me a nudge. “All right, Santa Claus,” she whispered, “get going.”  I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.  Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open.  Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven’t dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering beside my Grandma in Bobby Decker’s bushes.  That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

This story became the basis of our second Christmas tradition. 

Each year, we selected somebody who we perceived to be in need, either physically or emotionally.   Note that we are ALL in need physically or emotionally, so this isn’t an insult in any way.

Then we spend some time together discussing what might be a good thing to get them.  We have chosen college students we knew and bought them gift cards, we have chosen neighbors with young kids (and left them toys).  We have chosen teachers who seemed sad and left them self-care kits.  We have chosen coworkers who seemed down.  And when we simply couldn’t find someone to gift, we have bought gift certificates to local restaurants and left them on people’s cars while they were in Christmas Eve church services.

Why It’s Important

We often get very wrapped up in Christmas and what Santa is bringing for us when we are kids or what Santa is bringing for our kids when we are adults.  It’s equally important, though, to spend time thinking about what we can bring to others.  Just the act of doing this can pull you out of the self-focused, list-oriented Christmas, if only just a little bit. 

Not to mention that it’s fun to have a secret mission on Christmas Eve to spread joy.

What if You Feel Like You Can’t Afford It?

If you’re on a tight budget, this particular tradition is simple to make less expensive.  For many years, we were on an extremely tight budget – remember that it’s the thought that counts, more than the value of the gift.  You don’t have to spend very much to make someone feel special.  You can buy someone a $20 gift card and it will brighten their day.  (Just put that $20 gift card in a large box so that they don’t miss it sitting on their porch!)

What we’ve learned

This tradition has gotten exponentially harder with the advent of Ring cameras and the like.  When we started doing this, it was easy to surprise people – in fact, we were always successful.  Well with one exception. 

One year, we chose one of my daughter’s friends whose parents happened to be going through a divorce.  We later learned that the mom was being stalked, so when she received an anonymous gift on her doorstep, she was terrified.  When my daughter’s friend called her to ask if we had left the gift (they were calling everyone they could think of), we decided to tell them the truth, to ease their minds.  That remains the only year that we have had to disclose our identities to the giftee.

You might consider wearing a Santa hat and beard these days to try to obscure your identity a bit.  This might feel a little shady, but remember that you are doing something very nice, so it’s ok to be a little secretive.

Also, it might be obvious, but don’t go to houses or neighborhoods where you might feel unsafe.

And, in a pinch, just grab a gift card or two and leave them on people’s cars.

By definition, we have never heard follow up from these Christmas Eve adventures, but I have to believe that we have spread a little joy through the years.

Passing It On

We have been doing these traditions for many years now, almost two decades.  We have done these through divorce, through hard times and through good times.  Some years have been harder than others.  And it has been worth it, every single time.  I am truly hopeful that my children will continue these traditions or other traditions that remind them of the true meaning of Santa Claus and remind them to think of others.  I am also hoping that I can pass these ideas onto others. 

I couldn’t have conceived of my oldest daughter’s question about Santa Claus on the mall bench that day, nor could I have realized the depth of my aversion to lying to my children, even for such a magical topic as Santa Claus.   So even though things ended up different than I imagined they would be, I think they ended up better than I could have imagined.  The enduring traditions that were born out of that change – those might never have happened had she not asked that fateful question.