The big boy told my little boy there is no santa, that grownups buy you the presents. I had hoped he’d one day — maybe in 6 months — let on, but the little boy found out on Christmas Eve, and didn’t know what to do with it- he still has not spoken of it. He spoke his worries that he was not good enough to get presents. I wouldn’t have thought this, but I’m tremendously sad to see his small doubt was turned into certainty this year — why? He’s such a good little soul, and so full of love and magic, it’s unbearable to think of him knowing better. His fate, it seems, is to be sadder and wiser. His yesterday’s shell-shock is gone, but his face is not smiling.
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