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I used to beleive that Santa stole all the presents and candy on christmas eve and that we went to bed early on christmas eve so that noone would see him stealing the presents.
i thought santa was gods brother
I believed in Santa until I was about 10.
for years, i thought santa clause had come to my house but tripped and fell off a 5th story window cause my mom put cotton balls on the window edge. i thought it was his beard that had gotten stuck and ripped off when he fell. i felt awful.
I used to beleive that Father Christmas' fairies used to live in the air bricks in my house watching me for when i was naughty and then report it to Father Christmas. This is what my mom told me.
when I was little I used to believe that when santa came down the chimney and poked his but in the fireplace he used the milk as rubbing alchohol and the cookies as band-daids
Originally, I thought that Santa was an ok guy. But that changed when I got a little older. We would always go to my grandparent's house for Christmas. We would go to bed on Christmas Eve, and wake up on Christmas morning to find that Santa had left us presents. One year, when I was old enough to start reasoning, I asked my parents, "But how does Santa get inside to leave presents? Grandma and Grandpa don't have a chimney and fireplace?" My parents answered, "Well, he probably comes through the door, or a window."
He comes through a door or window? At night? While we're sleeping? Sounds like a criminal to me. Just like that, my idea of a jolly, generous, old, cookie-loving man was erased and replaced with a cold, hardened criminal who enjoyed breaking and entering.
I cried and cried until my parents told me he wasn't real. A rush of relief flooded over me. I went to bed happy, knowing that Santa wouldn't be breaking in anytime soon, but I would still be getting my presents.
When I was a child I thought that in the village next to ours Santa´s, St Niklaus` and the Easter Bunnie´s House were and told my mom about it each time we passed those houses.
I remember thinking people said there's no Santa Claus because he got eaten by a gremlin.
that santa was real
When I was little, my Mom, Dad and I would stay at my Grandparents house on Christmas Eve. They had a three story house, not including basement. Well, one year I slept on the third floor. After I heard everyone go to bed I heard a loud thump on the roof, then footsteps, and then I heard something slide down the chimney that ran from top to bottom in the center of the house. Followed by a large thud from the living room downstairs and ornaments hitting eachother.
My father is kind of a nut and would try to do something like that in his younger days. So maybe it was him. But I don't think I will ever know for sure, perhaps I will question him later.
Anyways, though I am 22 and no longer believe in Santa, this event still puzzles me and makes me wonder.
Finally, I used to believe in all the usual things that kids are told in school about Santa, The Easter Bunny, etc, until I was sadly disillusioned at the age of eight when someone told me that Santa was really my headteacher at my primary school! God love him! So...so much for childhood beliefs. I'm a grown up now- nearly thirty six years of age but I still remember my childhood years with fondness and not a little nostalgia for a time when I was new to a world that seemed so full of mystery, wonder and endless possibilities!
I used to believe that father christmas was real.
when i was young, i used to cry every time i heard the song "i saw mommy kissing santa claus." it used to break my heart that mommy would cheat on daddy with SANTA of all people! i learned the truth when i was 8 or so, but i still hate the song.
my grandma still brings it up every christmas, and i have yet to tell anyone *why* it made me cry.
When I was 9, maybe, I noticed that Santa Clause had the same writing as my mom. I asked her about it one day and she said, "Oh! Makenna, he doesn't want you to know his handwriting, so he wakes me up early in the morning so I can write it."
When i was litttle for some strange reason i thought that santa lived in the pub by my nan''s house and that at christmas his reindeer would come out of a tree and then off they'd go.
When I was about 4 or 5, I got up from be on Christmas eve to use the bathroom. As I walked by the living room, I saw Santa Claus putting out presents. For years I argued with friends that there had to be a Santa because I was a witness.
To this day I've wondered if this was a vivid dream or if my family played an elaborate hoax on me (something my dad would be capable of) but I've never asked. I think I enjoy the clear memory more than being told the truth, or realizing that it was a dream.
I remember having a big argument one christmas with my friends in school trying to convince them that Father Christmas was real. I was 11 at the time and went on believing for another 2 yrs even though nobody else did. I thought it was a big sin not to believe in Father Christmas because he was actually a Saint.
Its really sweet looking back on it
i used to believe that Father Winter, as my older siblings called him, would come at night when you hear the wind rustling and whistling on cold stormy winter days, he would swoop in to keep away the children from the mistle-toe because as they say " Mistle-toe is for Lovers! "
When I was younger and still believed in Santa and the Tooth Fairy, my loose tooth came out on Christmas eve. That nigh,t I thought that Santa and the Tooth Fairy would both come into my house at the same time and bump into each other. I attempted to stay awake so I could see both of them but I ended up falling asleep.