While I was in India I had the pleasure of getting to know an older,
gray headed Englishman by the name of Keith. Keith and I shared a 10x10
room , went to work together on the worlds most crowded bus, and lived
life together for those two weeks. Needless to say we had many fun and
enlightening conversations. Keith is a devout atheist while I am a
devout follower of Christ. This no doubt led to some interesting
conversations. I can remember walking down the street one day when
Keith looked at me and said,"You know, I used to believe in Santa
Clause."

I chuckled, "I know where your going with this," I
said. "I've made this same argument, for different reasons of course
but still, the same argument."

"I used to believe in Santa
Clause but then I grew up and found out that he wasn't real. You know I
used to believe in God? But then I wised up. God and Santa, both
imaginary, things people make up to make themselves feel good. They may
be fun but they aren't real."

Keith was a logical person, an
intelligent person, well read, a world traveler, and this was logic.
Keith wasn't the first person that I've come to know who as a child or
as an adult came to these same conclusions. After all, they are
logical. My mother is one of those people who for a period of time
doubted the existence of God for these same reasons.

At what
point did tradition trump morality? When did it become acceptable to
lie for the sake of fun? Right and wrong isn't determined by the out
come of a situation, family tradition, how fun it is, or what everyone
else is doing. I'll leave you with a few more stories that I was told
last year.

"It was a let down. I was in second grade and had
suspected there was a cover up for a while. The creepy thing was, I
told my mother I knew there was no Santa and she got this peeved look
in her eye and said, "Children who don't believe in Santa don't get
Christmas gifts". I was stunned. So, I said, "I guess I believe then".
With that bit of creepiness, I went on to pretend to believe in Santa
for years. Strangest part is that she responded similarly when I
stopped being Christian."

"I can't remember how old I was
(probably around 8). I remember I was obsessing about getting my
Christmas list done so I could give it to Santa. I was trying to find
good paper for it and I was probably annoying my parents to no end. I
remember getting a slip of wrapping paper and announcing that I was
about to write my list.

That's when my dad told me to come to
him. He said that they made up Santa Clause and that he wasn't real. I
was devastated. I really did believe in him with all my little heart.
It felt like the magic of Christmas shattered before my very eyes. He
said that all parents tell their kids the same story. I asked why they
would do such a mean thing- to make them believe in something and then
tell them it isn't true. He said that it was so parents could give
gifts to their children without taking the credit for giving them. I
understood that side of the arguement, but I was angry and heartbroken
that parents would put their children through that. I asked him why he
told me and he said it was because I was old enough to know.

After
that, I didn't want to write my list. He told me to do it, though, and
so like a good little girl I obeyed. However, the list seemed to be
significantly less important to me that year.

It never occurred
to me to question the existence of God right then and there, but I did
wonder about it later. I mean, if they lied to me about one man doing
miraculous things, why wouldn't a supernatural, all-seeing, all-knowing
being be a lie as well?

I know it seems nothing, but I really
did believe in Santa with every fiber of my being, and that experience
was absolutely unforgettable. Since then, I have vowed never to tell my
children about him- or at least I would say that it's just a story from
the very beginning. Strangely enough, I haven't changed my mind all
these years. "