First (and last) Christmas in Nepal

We just had to do it.  We had to tell Mason the truth about Santa.  He was practically the only kid in middle school who still believed in Santa only because his parents told him he was real.  And we knew he would only get teased by his friends for still believing that an old, overweight bearded guy flies around in a sleigh pulled by a bunch of reindeer to deliver gifts to kids all over the world all in one night.

But instead of just coming out and saying, "Hey, by the way, Santa isn't real.".  I found a letter that a writer from the New York Times gave to her daughter explaining Santa and decided to give the same letter to Mason (with a few edits).  Mason admitted he was disappointed in the news and we don't blame him.  We almost feel like we've taken away his innocence.  But he's a good sport and doesn't want to spoil it for his sisters.  However, I think Cadyn is catching on.

This Christmas will also be our first and last Christmas in Nepal.  It feels kind of strange to be writing that because we were originally planning on staying for three years.  Sure it feels a little sad.  But there are many exciting opportunities ahead and we will always cherish the short time we were able to live in Nepal.  The kids still had a wonderful Christmas and they're looking forward to their big ski trip to Japan!  We've shown Ember videos of kids her age skiing and she can't wait to try it herself.  Hopefully, she can handle the cold because it's going to be FREEZING!

Oh, and here is what the letter to the writer's daughter:

Dear Lucy,

Thank you for your letter. You asked a very good question: "Are you Santa?"

I know you've wanted the answer to this question for a long time, and I've had to give it careful thought to know just what to say.

The answer is no. I am not Santa. There is no one Santa.

I am the person who fills your stockings with presents, though. I also choose and wrap the presents under the tree, the same way my mom did for me, and the same way her mom did for her. (And yes, Daddy helps, too.)

I imagine you will someday do this for your children, and I know you will love seeing them run down the Christmas magic stairs on Christmas morning. You will love seeing them sit under the tree, their small faces lit with Christmas lights.

This won't make you Santa, though.

Santa is bigger than any person, and his work has gone on longer than any of us have lived. What he does is simple, but it is powerful. He teaches children how to have belief in something they can't see or touch.

It's a big job, and it's an important one. Throughout your life, you will need this capacity to believe: in yourself, in your friends, in your talents, and in your family. You'll also need to believe in things you can't measure or even hold in your hand. Here, I am talking about love, that great power that will light your life from the inside out, even during its darkest, coldest moments.

Santa is a teacher, and I have been his student, and now you know the secret of how he gets down all those chimneys on Christmas Eve: he has help from all the people whose hearts he's filled with joy.

With full hearts, people like Daddy and me take our turns helping Santa do a job that would otherwise be impossible.

So, no, I am not Santa. Santa is love and magic and hope and happiness. I'm on his team, and now you are, too.

I love you and I always will.

Mama