Growing And Gone

It’s always fun to watch a child’s eyes light up when waiting for the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, or Santa Claus.  In our house a visit from any of these friends evoked such a heart-warming response from the recipient, that the memories were seldom forgotten. In our family of eight children, these practices were carried out, but along the way I must confess, I shed a few tears. These feelings were not because of what we enjoyed with the children when the “visits” took place.  No, it had to do with the growing up process.

When our first child was old enough to understand and join the ranks of those who were dedicated to carry out these traditions, it made me a little sad to know she was taking steps toward maturity. One by one her brothers and sisters stepped over the line, but each was careful to remain true to the mysteries which were entrusted to each of them. We soon reached the point where these discussions were “almost” a dinner table topic. Except for the youngest child.

She would leave the Easter Bunny a carrot, write Santa notes, and leave her tooth in plain view. I thought her belief span would be considerably less than her predecessors. But I was wrong!  She was enjoying her festive chances to celebrate being young. Each time she carried out her usual approach to the occasion and became totally engulfed in the tradition of things.

I was happy this occurred because it made the holidays a little more meaningful. I guess I was soft-hearted and tried to savor the bits and pieces of my kids’ childhood. Yet, I can’t help wondering if there isn’t something ironic in my last child’s staunch support of tradition. What if she was playing the part just for my benefit?