Santa Claus

I know I'm too old for this kind of thing.

I don't wish for Santa Claus to come on Christmas' eve and bring me a Christmas present, but I used to when I was a little girl. I used to believe that Santa Claus would come if I had been a good children throughout the year and brought me a present. That night I remember I wrote a note for Mr Santa on a white board hanging on the wall beside my room's door. I put my shoes in front of my door and went to sleep. I knew that when I woke up the next day, I'd find my presents there. And yeah, I found them. My little bro got one too. I'm 6.5 years older than he is, so yea, you know, I might be a little too old for this kind of thing at that time too. LOL.

Two consecutive Christmases passed like that. I enjoyed it a lot, even though I knew sooner or later that Mr Santa was no more than a hoax. I think I was a bit disappointed. I wasn't mad. I think I laughed soon after my parents made the confession. I wasn't mad at them either. At that moment, everything became clear. How did Mr Santa come into my house? The doors and windows were locked. We had no chimneys.

Just now I was browsing a topic in a forum discussing whether you want to tell your children or not about the existence of Santa Claus. I know I'm way too early for this. LOL. Well, from the point of view of someone who once had believed in Mr Santa, I'd oppose those who wants to banish this kind of fairy tale. I was taught to wish, to dream, and to hope. I didn't know that the world was not as beautiful as I imagined them to be. Genocides, racism, terrorism, wars, etc, etc, etc. I soon learned that Mr Santa only exists in the Dreamland far away from the world I was destined to be born. But I didn't regret that I made friends with him, even though only for a short period of time. Even now sometimes I wish I could go back to those ages, where I could dream as wild as I wanted them to be. Having dreams is what makes your life alive. Sometimes we were just a living dead by monotonous routine everyday. What were dreams in the past remain dreams. We forget that we were once a children who have that innocent smiles. And yet, we grow up, consumed by reality, leaving those dreams behind. Reality, decisions, targets, deadlines, competitions, etc, let them be our new buddies.

What about our dreams? I think I've lost it somewhere on my way here.

but anyway, I'm living my life. I guess I just want to make it realistic.

I'm wondering where that little girl had gone?

Maybe she's just not that little anymore...