I’ve been playing the piano for a preschool Christmas party for over a decade. Today I played downstairs with the three-year-olds, and my usual amusement was enriched by a new layer of warmth as I imagined Fiona in such a scene, not far in the future.
“I can’t see anything!” said a child, Santa hat fallen over his face. They “sang” in a circle, looked shy, gave homemade gifts to Mom and Dad. Classic. Upon Santa’s surprise arrival, they bounced with glee, or burst into tears, clutching their grownup.
I can’t deny that it is adorable, and families seem to enjoy it. It is a privately-owned business. However, a part of me questions the focus, in this modern day when we’re finally tuned in to the reality that many of our neighbors do not get a Santa visit. When Santa asks each child “if they’ve been good” and what they want for Christmas, it makes me squirm a little.
Am I being a stick in the mud?
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 112: 167 words, TOTAL = 18,509; 41,491 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.