When I was 7, I learned the truth about Santa. Sort of.
My friend Emily said Santa was not some jolly old elf who appeared in the night and left presents under the tree, but was really my father who would crawl out of bed and pull toys from the closet. I suppose I knew Emily was telling the truth, but inside I wanted to believe Santa was real.
It was back when my family and I used to eat dinner around the dining room table that I made the announcement to my parents. “I know the truth about...
