Santa's Secret Fruit Tea for Monday 6th December (I know it's Tuesday now, nevermind).
I suppose everyone must remember that moment when they realized that Santa Claus didn't exist. I do, all too vividly; I was probably surprisingly old to still be writing to Santa Claus, but still it hurt to the core to read those words in Smash Hits magazine.
It still hurts now, to be honest. It feels criminal to type those three words, and so I won't type them again. Because the way I felt then when I saw such a thing written in glossy print is absolutely no different to how I feel when I see it now. I still believe in Father Christmas, and I am twenty three years old. Even when I was eight or nine, I knew inside that Santa couldn't exist, but still I went on believing. When I saw it published in black and white I wasn't surprised, I was simply disappointed and hurt - hurt that anyone would bother questioning such a wonderful and magical idea.
Father Christmas isn't about children getting presents, after all. He's about the Christmas spirit, the joy of innocence and magic in everyone which should be so vibrant at Christmas time. The belief that we need to be good all year, whatever being good means to each of us, if we are to allow ourselves the indulgence of the festive season. As a non-religious Christmas-lover, this is for me a season for joy and festivity, for indulging and laughing, for feeling warmth and magic all around as the fairy lights twinkle and the mulled wine flows.
And Santa Claus has to be a part of that magic; the letting-go and frivolity of spirit as well as body.