The existence of Santa Claus is an inseparable part of our childhood. A mysterious fat man with a snowy white beard in a red coat with a big sack of presents used to come to us every Santa Claus day and Christmas Eve. Later on I realized that it was not always Santa Claus who visited kids at Christmas. Some of them were given presents by Angel or Star Man.

I still remember when on every 5th of December we polished our shoes until they gleamed, put them in front of our room and in the morning, anxious and barefoot, ran to make sure he had not forgotten about us. He never failed us. We always found some small packages and a rod lying nearby. We had not always been well-behaved of course. This stick served as a warning and encouraged us to be well-behaved for the next two weeks.

Obviously, he came for a second time on Christmas Eve. The way he made it to us depended on the weather: by sledge, by cart or on foot. We always looked out for his sledge in the sky, looking at the same time for the first star. Meanwhile, he appeared imperceptibly, leaving colourful packages by the Christmas tree. Sometimes he rang the door bell, but we were never fast enough to open it for him; sometimes he left the balcony door open and white footmarks on the floor.

These childhood memories, warm as the smell of coffee cake, I have cherished until today. At the same time, I cannot remember that painful moment when I realized that the man in red clothing was in fact my beloved parents, who were trying to fulfil my childhood dreams. Maybe it happened on the day my brother and I decided in secret to make our own presents for our parents and quietly put them under the Christmas tree? It was probably that moment when I realized that everyone could be like Santa Claus.

Remembering the anxiety and excitement and after that the joy of opening small packages, I strive so that my children will be able to experience the same. The world will never again be so magical as it was in our childhood. We always write letters to Santa Claus, we hide presents so that they cannot be discovered and we all believe in Santa. Knowing how sad it is when peers pass on the dramatic news that Santa Claus does not exist, I have been gradually preparing my kids for the discovery of the truth. Lately my son asked me whether there is only one Santa Claus. He accepted without any argument that there is only one living far away in the North but he has numerous helpers, so that every kid will get something for Christmas. I sneaked in as well the information that it is not important who puts the packages under the Christmas tree; it is important that every recipient will be happy.  Every year we also try to give a present to somebody who needs it more than we do.

These who have the opportunity may take their children on a December trip to Lapland, the home of the real Santa Claus. In faraway Finland, in a fabulous village in Rovaniemi, Santa Claus gets children into the Christmas mood. It is possible to talk to him briefly, get a little present, take a commemoratory picture, prepare some Christmas tree ornaments with some elves in the Christmas village, bake ginger bread and drink tea in the ice pub. These who want stronger impressions may take a snowmobile trip, drive a husky team or reindeer sledges. After such an adventure nobody in the kindergarten will tell the other kids that Santa Claus does not exist. 'What do you mean he doesn't exist? I have seen him'. These who cannot afford such a long-distance trip have to cherish the Santa Claus faith within themselves and make their children believe in it.

I personally still believe in Santa Claus. Not necessarily one dressed in red with a white beard, but one who always makes our dreams come true.