Santa 2025

I just want to take a moment to brag on my daughter. Please forgive the indulgence. 

Christmas around our house is a celebration of family and not a religious holiday at all. Yes, we have a tree but that’s more for aesthetic reasons and are probably closer to the original pagan roots than anything else. We also have an “admin” calendar,* which is dutifully opened every morning (we tend to get Monki playmobil). 

The timing is usually that our tree goes up as near to the first weekend of December as possible (and if you don’t recall the saga of the tree, it’s recounted here), we watch Home Alone, which is basically the Lithuanian version of It’s a Wonderful Life and thus starts the season. This year, though, our tree assembly was delayed a week because Rasa was away on a work trip. Not a big deal, really, but see, there’s one other thing: Once the tree goes up, something magical happens – a daily present appears under it. 

Once of the things this Jewish boy was not prepared for when having a child was the absolute, unwavering belief in Santa. This belief is so strong, that when there was an incident at school recently, where Monki and a classmate got into a bit of a flight, she asked us if she was a bad kid and if Santa would still bring her presents**. Anyway, when we got our first tree, way back when Monki was a wee toddler, something small started appearing every morning. This could be a chocolate coin or a small toy figure or anything. It wasn’t about the value, but just that Santa was doing practice runs at our house and Monki was the recipient of his largesse. 

She’s also very good about sending off her letters to the man in red, usually drawing pictures of what she wants (art is her favorite form of communication) and always including Rasa and I in the equation***. And the thing is, she most often gets what she asks for. Yup, she’s an only child and yes, we are able to spoil her a little, but at the same time, she’s very appreciative of whatever she receives (and anyone who’s ever sent her anything can attest by the “thank you” videos she sends out).

All of this is prologue to what happened the last weekend. 

A couple weeks back, we watched the Kaunas Christmas Tree Lighting ceremony and this weekend, decided we should go and check it out for ourselves. Sure, we go every year and have a good time. Kaunas has a reputation for having a the most unusual trees in the Baltics, if not in Europe and so when we go, Rasa, a traditionalist, generally likes to complain about the design. This year, though, nothing to complain about. The tree is traditional with art deco decorations and set up where it usually is, right in the middle of Rotuse, the town square (last year it was in a different place due to renovations and construction). 

When we got there, we immediately noticed a long line snaking out from one of the plastic igloos they have set up to hold hot chocolate and candy stands. This line though, was not for tasty treats, but for Santa. I immediately volunteered to wait in line while the girls wandered the square. While I waited, there was a group of teenage boys running around wearing Santa outfits, singing and dancing and giving out candy and a lot of people with cute doggies. There was even someone dressed up as Mickey Mouse. It made the hour long wait in the cold a bit more bearable. 

As we got closer, we could see Santa inside. It was the same Santa we’d met last year. Evidently, he’s the “official” Santa for Lithuania and last year, he was wonderful. Very energetic and jovial. This year, we could see a dog with him, sitting on his lap, and Monki was very excited. 

When it was our turn, we went in, but something seemed a bit off. Santa was tired. He started his spiel (in Lithuanian, so I’m getting this second hand) “…and what do you want for Christmas…”

Now, Monki will tell anyone who asks that what she wants this year, more than anything, is a LEGO train. It’s all she’s talked about. It’s what she drew in her letter to Santa. But when this Santa asked her what she wanted, LEGO was never mentioned. Instead, she told him that she wanted him to have a safe flight. And she asked about his dog (a reindeer in disguise) and how he was doing. Even though I couldn’t understand the words, I could see Santa perking up, hear the intonation in his voice getting more animated and excited. Every time I thought we were going to get the brush off of “okay, let’s take the family picture and move on” Monki and Santa kept talking. At one point, he looked at us and offered congratulations. 

After we took our family pictures and left for the next family to come in, Rasa told me a bot about what they talked about. 

“Did she ever mention the LEGO train?” I asked.

“Nope. She never asked for anything for herself.”

And I guess this is the thing… Do we spoil her? Yeah, we do. Does she get most everything she asks for? Probably. Do we try to give her adventures and experiences most of her classmates may not get? Sure. But at the end of the day, I think we’re able to do all of that because at no point does she ever take it for granted. She wants everyone to have what she has. And honestly, that’s all we can ask for. 

* What Monki used to call advent calendars and, for my money, is a much better name. I mean, seriously, it’s all about the administration of getting from the first of the month to the 25^th, so, yeah, “admin” makes much more sense. 

** It was a case where Monki was the recipient of a bit of bullying, but when she verbally fought back, she’s the one who got in a bit of trouble. 

*** and yes, we’ve gotten the “even if we can’t afford it, Santa can” argument when we explain some things are out of our price range.