I’m Jewish, so I was told from the get-go that Santa Claus (apart from any historical personage upon whom the current St Nick is based) is entirely a fiction, although admittedly a charming one. However, I had Christian friends during my childhood who earnestly believed in Santa and were pretty upset when they found out the truth. (No, I did not tip them off).
I can’t for the life of me understand why children are so avidly told this myth. It’s a very sweet story and I guess that the “magic of believing” is supposed to be wonderful, but basically parents of these kids are perpetuating a lie, and they go to great lengths to do so even though they know that their children are going to be upset when they learn that good ol’ Santa is not real. I hear parents all the time asking their friends “Do your kids still believe?” as if this is such a terrific thing: that they are still pulling the wool over their trusting children’s eyes. Wouldn’t finding out that their parents are lying about Santa make kids suspicious of other things told to them?
Believe me, I’m not trying to be confrontational or a scrooge. I’m just trying to understand something from a tradition apart from my own. This has mystified me for a long time.
Oh, ditto to a lesser degree for the Easter Bunny…
BTW-- closest thing I can think of from the Jewish tradition is the “belief” that on Passover, Elijah the prophet visits each Jewish family’s seder and takes a sip from a special wine cup set aside for him. At one point in the service, someone actually opens the door for himand children are sometimes encouraged to watch the level of the wine carefully to see it “go down” when Elijah drinks. However, this is a minor tradition unlike Santa who seems to be such a major institiution.
Ha! You think the Santa fabrication is rich? You should hear the one about there being a creature called God! 
And, incredible as it may seem, there are even adults who would fight and kill each other over their own personal interpretation of this fable. From Allah to Yahweh, there seems no end to the desperation with which some people will cling to such children’s tales and superstitions. Fantastic!
djm
Santa Claus isn’t real?! 
Very true!
Okay, okay… a somewhat more serious reply:
As someone who grew up in a household of Santa-believing kids, I remember gradually coming to the conclusion that Santa wasn’t real. Rather than becoming more suspicious of my parents, I found it to be a wonderful joke. But then, I knew my dad was a big practical joker long before I found out Santa wasn’t real…
I accidently found out that Santa Claus wasn’t real even before I quite had a concept of who he was. I walked in on my Mom explaining this to my brother who was 2 years older than me. I know I was less than 4 at the time. I also thought the Santas at the local shopping centers were kind of creepy, alcoholic, old men in cheaply made suits and even worse fake beards.
brewerpaul, I never let on to other kids either. My younger brother believed in Santa like nobody’s business. I felt like I was an outside observer to all of this.
I can see why parents and adults would want children to believe in Santa and other magical things. I tell children all kinds of tall tales all the time. Children like tall tales, adults like tall tales too.
though my parents tried to get me to believe, at no time in my own memory did I believe, which means from age 4 onward.
After all, Santa had my mom’s handwriting, and used the same wrapping paper that she did every year 
By age 5, i was devising an experiment to disprove the tooth fairy as well, since i didn’t believe in her either
I was told the same thing, from day one.
Seems to me it’s most common for kids to just sort of naturally evolve to being in on the joke, like Slude reports. Or be little debunkers like Wanderer. I can’t think of anyone I know who grew up feeling like a lie was perpetrated, but I guess it could happen.
I can remember thinking I heard the reindeer on my grandmother’s roof the year we spent Christmas eve with them. I was practically in a panic of excitement. I’ve later decided it was acorns dropping on the tin roof. ( I was “sleeping” upstairs and with no insulation it was really loud.)
I think I was maybe six or seven when I figured it out for sure, although I’d had my suspicions for a while. I never let on to my little brother though. I do remember being a bit disappointed, but but never let on to my parents because they obviously had such fun playing santa.
After all, Santa had my mom’s handwriting, and used the same wrapping paper that she did every year wink
Our stuff from Santa was never wrapped or labeled, and never in a box. It was always sitting under the tree when we got up. We had present or two, unwrapped appearing on Christmas morning until we were well into our teens. I really was sad the year they quit appearing.
Santa continued with my girls in the same way. Hanging on my front door knob right now is the strap of sleigh bells that my husband shook while circling around outside their bedroom window on Christmas eve, sending them into an absolute tizzy.(there’s only a year between them in age) They laugh about that to this day, how they were worried that he had come by and they were not asleep yet.
We also continued the family tradition of putting out a few unwrapped presents under the tree long after they had figured the whole thing out. In fact, the one year I did not put anything out from “Santa” I had two sad teenagers. So, the next year we went back to a few presents from “Santa”. I had to keep this up until they left home.
We still hang stockings off the mantle. and that’s part of our family tradition. They are reserved for funny, silly gag gifts, candy and lottery tickets.
This Christmas I have a four and a half year old granddaughter who is anxiously awaiting Santa. And we are too. The years of belief are so magical for all involved. I don’t really see any harm in it. (I bet those sleigh bells are gonna get the first work out they’ve had in about twenty-seven years
We told Kevin from as early as possible that there was really was someone named St. Nicholas who lived long ago, who believed in Jesus, and who gave gifts to the poor. “Those guys you see at the mall and on TV are dressing up like him because it’s a Christmas tradition. It’s a nice reminder of the real St. Nicholas.”
I also told Kevin that the “tooth fairy” is really his dad. (In a conspiratorial whisper) "Late at night your dad puts on a tutu, and dances all around tossing glitter, then he puts the money under your pillow. "
It will be interesting to see what Kevin tells his kids…
I was raised to believe (and have raised my daughter to believe) that the personage we think of as Santa Claus is one embodiment of the spirit of love and generosity that finds its ultimate expression in God…and that this “spirit” can take many forms. The story is a fun one, and even at my age, I get a kick out of checking the NORAD site for Santa’s progress, but it’s really a metaphor for something bigger.
I know I wasn’t upset when I discovered that my parents were the “Santas” in our household…instead I felt that I had suddenly been let in on a bigger and better secret.
Redwolf
"Late at night your grandpappy puts on a tutu, and dances all around tossing glitter, then he puts the money under your pillow. "
It was a tradition in our church that red-faced Harry Scoggins, a mortician by trade, would rush into the sanctuary in his Santa Caus outfit at the end of the sermon. He always had a bag full of candy for the children who would be asked to come to the front of the church so that the people could delight in the wonder on their faces. I can remember the time that I said to my parents, “That isn’t Santa. That’s Harry Scoggins”.
I loved believing in Santa long after I suspected the truth.
I loved my parents for promoting the magic by leaving personal notes (to me! from Santa!) along with the cookie plate left empty except for crumbs, and the glass of milk drained.
Never once did I feel let down that they were “lying” to me. It never felt like that. It was more like a shared fantasy.
I was delighted to share the same experience with my own kids, and eventually let them in on how my parents had made Christmas so special for me.
There ya go. That’s it! Santa rules!!! 
I can’t imagine living a life without magic and wonder; that, afterall, was Ebenezer Scrooge’s failing. He lost that ember that glowed inside of him as a boy and then his life just became one humdrum of acquiring more money hand-over-fist. I thought that ALL children shared this ember, this innocence of looking at the world with wonder and awe - and seeing those things that are only visible to the heart. But maybe I was mistaken, although I sincerely hope not. God, please, I hope not.
If you listen to this recitation and come away only with “that’s a nice sentiment,” then you are only about one step ahead of Mister Scrooge in understanding what is important in this life. People like that don’t really see the true beauty and magic and mystery that is behind a butterfly, a flower, a star or another human being. And that is sad.
Anyone here willing to give it just one more try?
Thanks for the replies folks. I can see you all turned out just fine, despite the Santa fiction
A board member sent me a private email response to this which was really beautiful, and I invite him to post it here, or give me permission to do it myself. It really caught the spirit of Christmas giving,rather than the wanton receiving…
We are told a lot of things and expected to believe them, or act as though we do, which a little reflection would reveal to be false. Engineers are taught, and apply, Newtonian physics rather than quantum mechanics and relativity theory. Since their calculations would be much more prone to mistakes if they used true theories, this seems sensible. Nobody protests about this. In our society, practicality trumps truth every time.