I don't remember exactly when I knew Father Christmas didn't exist; there are many moments of childhood that resonate emotionally but aren't tangible. I am lucky that occasions, sights and smells that remind me of childhood bring back only comfortable, happy memories.
Interestingly, (to me) I have no memory of ever being told I was adopted; it is as if I always knew and never knew any different. Clever.
I didn't have a sibling that shattered the magic of Santa Claus out of playful spite, I never caught my parents sneaking presents under the tree or replacing a tooth with some money under my pillow; I just stopped believing.
|Christmas Man, der Weihnachtsmann © Richard Ansett 2012|