Dad versus Santa

Somewhere in that box in Dad's closet is a photo, well-worn, of a pair of little girls in front of an aluminum tinsel Christmas tree. The eldest is poised atop a brand new bicycle with her little socks hanging off the edge of the pedals ... ah, what a memory ...
Only there's a story that goes with that picture ...

I call it--- DAD VS SANTA CLAUS!!!! (cue super-hero theme music) ....

One of the problems when fusing cultures within a marriage is the different holiday traditions ... In the Philippines, I know it goes against everything you've ever learned, but Santa is kinda not such a big deal. There's a lot of food and music and family celebration and yes, Santa has gained a slight foothold in the tropics, but .. eh, it is obviously a hard sell for a large, red-coated, bearded white man to enter a nipahut bearing gifts.

So now we go to Adak, Alaska, the smallest of the Aleutian Islands and very close to Russia and look into the window of the Navy Housing Duplex that was directly across from the playground and within the shadow of an old volcano... The conversation between the parents was touchy, at best. You see, Daddy was getting absolutely no credit for all of the things he was buying the little angels, who constantly heaped praise and adoration on "dat Santa Claus"... "Why does he get all da credit?" "But, Teddy, they should be able to celebrate with Santa."

Dad felt very slighted and this is where the genius of my mother came into play. She formulated a brilliant plan to set the whole thing right.

Those little girls with bikes had just had a pivotal moment in their childhood. The unthinkable had happened. They had just been told by their mother that the bikes were actually from their wonderful Daddy, not Santa! As she told it, Santa had left bags of coal for each of them and their wonderful father had gone out into the snow in the dead of night to procure wonderful gifts of HIS appreciation for their Christmas morning! "Oh, DADDY, DADDY, DADDY ... THANK YOU, DADDY!" Kisses and hugs and general complete adoration ensued.

One hero disappoints and another is lifted to lofty heights. A Filipino phoenix rises from the ashes!

This is the reason that years later, when a FIFTH GRADER at Oakland Elementary, young Prisca was still a believer in Santa magic while the little Santa atheists touted their "there's no Santa" drivel ... She actually had a small following of "re-believers" on account of her passionate telling of that Christmas long ago.

There's magic in that story somewhere. Dad was now happy, Santa (though slightly less jolly) was still real and Mom, the ultimate spin-doctor, was the true hero.