Remembering

I was looking at Facebook earlier today and read a posting by a former student. He wrote, "I hate Christmas." There were several comments by friends his age-he's in college now. One referred to Steven's first Christmas in the US. I remember that Christmas. He had only been here a few months. I was his ESL teacher. We studied winter holidays and I think I may have sent an information sheet home to his parents about Christmas. Steven was hearing and seeing lots about Santa and presents that was new to him. His father was busy with his own studies at the medical center. I don't remember if his mom worked or was also a student. Anyway, Steven's father didn't really understand little third grade boys or the culture that his son had been immersed in. Steven was hoping for this magical Santa person to bring him something on Christmas. I guess his father knew something was expected and had bought the family a television. The story he told Steven was that there was a bike left on the patio by Santa but some bad people stole it. Dad had fortunately bought the TV and it had been safely locked away in the car, so it was not stolen. When I heard this story from a very sad little boy, I had a feeling that this was Dad's way of 'saving' Christmas. Little did he know that years later Steven would hate Christmas because of his dad's lie. There was no bike from Santa. Dad wanted a TV and didn't think a kid's magical belief was important. I missed that opportunity to tell Steven about the real meaning of Christmas. I hope one day he will know.