Santa Claus and the Kachinas

When I met my husband, I was not really "up" on the idea
of Christmas.  It wasn't a big thing in my family -- my
mother is Jewish -- and it served as an "in yo' face"
reminder that the everyone is Christian on Christmas
(except me).  In *his* family, though, Christmas is the
hub of the family year, and Christmas morning, with
stockings and gifts and waffles, was the center of the
universe.

At one point he asked me if I believed in Santa Claus,
and I was frankly shocked.  Here was a young man in his
late twenties asking me this question!  "Of *course* not!"
was my automatic reply.  He just *tsk*ed and admonished
me that Santa believed in me anyway, but that I should
certainly grow a little belief, or I'd get coal in my
stocking...

Over the next few weeks between then and Christmas I
thought a lot about Santa, and what he means to people. 
I remember, myself, learning that it was my parents who
left the gifts when I was perhaps 5 or 6 years old.  I
remember the feeling of sophistocation that lent me,
among my peers.  That feeling is one that I've learned
to distrust in my growing years.  The old elf needed
some re-examination.

Now, I've spent a moderate slice of my life investigating
comparative religion and the history of religious ideas,
and I finally found the bit that I was able to make
serve to bring me back to Santa.  I often find that I
have to look away from my own culture to find my way
back...

In the southwestern US, the kachinas are the spirits
that protect and look after the needs of the native
villages.  Every year, the children watch the kachina
dances, and receive dolls in the images of various
kachina.  When a boy reaches a certain age, he is
gathered up by the kachinas, and led back into the kiva. 
There, the kachinas unmask, and he sees that these
kachinas are the brothers, uncles, and friends of his
family that he has grown up with.  However, he is now
to join them, in the understanding that he *also* is
to protect and look after the needs of his people.

I see this as an enrichening experience -- this
understanding that we are all the embodiment of the old
saint, on his day.  And when my son is old enough to
understand, I will tell him this.

Not that "there is no Santa Claus," but that "we are
*all* Santa Claus."  And that he is not *fooling* the
younger children, but creating magic for them, and
acting as their special guardian, out of love.  Santa
Claus is a blessing, and a rite of passage.

Merry Christmas to y'all, and to y'all a good night!