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Originally Posted by Juniper
Heck no SG. Santas are everywhere - park events, shopping centers, festivals, etc.
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See this is where things get lost in translation
It's anything from £5 ($9) upwards to go into Santa's grotto here. Hamleys (famous toyshop) offer packages from £10-£45!
Quote:
Originally Posted by Juniper
The hardest thing is explaining to your little kid why there are so many of them or why he's everywhere at the same time.
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We went to see Father Christmas ONCE when I was a child, and that was paid for as a present by a friend of my Mum's. Mum told us that Father Christmas was so busy this time of year that he sent out helpers to meet children on his behalf. Which also explained why a benevolent gift-giving magic creature was appearing somewhere we couldn't afford to get into.
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Originally Posted by xoxoxoBruce
What? Nooooo, take 'em to see Santa, take 'em to see the lights and nativity scenes, and free public ceremonies. Have 'em write notes on cards to friends and relatives, decorate the house with strung popcorn, make construction paper chains, and a wreath from a coat hanger and greens. A couple of inexpensive gifts will suffice.
Years down the road, they'll remember all the things they did, and you did together, when they can't remember any gifts from any year. Christmas should be about family, not loot.
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And this is what I remember of Christmas. Our experience with Father Christmas (who we knew wasn't the real one, as above) was the Rotary Club float that came round every year. The times and dates were in the local paper (something I only discovered a few years ago!) and we would listen out for him. It was a man dressed as Father Christmas, on a lorry, with lots of burly men dressed up running alongside with collection buckets. It was such a big thrill to hear the music coming and run out to the main road with a couple of pence to put in the buckets, and have him wave at us.
I only remember about three specific Christmas presents growing up. Two were stocking fillers, but they feature in a story told and retold here, and the other was a game we ended up having marathon sessions on; a friend got it the next Christmas so we could do the same at her house.
What I remember most is the familiar decorations on the tree - which ones would be broken this year? - Dad's handpainted nativity scene, the year we had snow (1982), family traditions, walking to Mass in the silent morning. And running out into the dark with coats on over our nightdresses to see the Rotary Club pass by like a carnival, raising money for poor children. We had no idea we were relatively poor too, and probably wouldn't have cared if we knew.
As an aside, Mum confessed to us years later that she sometimes spent some of the money sent to us by the London Aunts and Uncles on food and drink for Christmas. If things were tight and perhaps Dad hadn't got the overtime he hoped for. "Good!" I said. Christmas should never be about the presents. (Well, probably not about the food & drink either!) It was a special time for all of us, and despite a few bumpy teenage years, oh and just after my divorce, it has settled back into that again.