Childlike Faith

This past weekend my family and I attended our first NCSU football game. It was the season opener, and prior to kickoff we joined the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences (CALS) at its annual Tailgate in the Dorton Arena. (A plug for the College: It was such an impressive event! Delicious food, festive music, Mr. and Ms. Wuf, the pep band, giveaways, TONS of activities for children, and Departmental displays.)

One of my favorite moments at the CALS Tailgate was when our 4-year-old, Drew, spotted "Santa" among the crowd. He insisted we go say hello to a man whom he truly believed was Santa. Our conversation went something like this (before being taken by a small hand and enthusiastically led towards, quite literally, The Man in Red).

D: Mommy, look! There's Santa! I want to go say Hi.

M: Yes, Drew, that man does look like Santa.

D: No, Mommy, it IS Santa. Come on!

As we approached the Agriculture and Resource Economics table, Drew's face lit up when he said Hi to Dr. Ron Campbell, NCSU professor. I silently mouthed, unknowingly, "He thinks you're Santa." Without missing a beat, Dr. Campbell swooped Drew into his lap and spent several minutes talking with him about all things kid-and-Christmas-related. It was if no one else was in the room. Drew was mesmerized.

Much to our surprise, as it turned out, Drew's child-like, innocent instincts were spot-on. Dr. Campbell (whose gracious and generous spirit exudes) is the same Santa you'll see throughout the Triangle this (and every) holiday season. It was a surreal, Miracle-on-34th-Street moment. You can read more about Dr. Campbell here.

Since the Tailgate, I've been reflecting on Drew's experience, on his childlike faith, and why it's an example of a necessary marker in child development. 

Sure, Dr. Campbell looks like Santa, so on one hand Drew's assumption wasn't that far off base. But understand the context of the day. We were at at football tailgate. In August. Dr. Campbell wasn't in Santa garb. And he was one of a few hundred people in a big arena. Instead Drew was relying on his 4-year-old instincts and on his past experiences to shape his perceptions. The day's context was of little importance to his imagination. He didn't need December or snow or jingle bells or a Santa suit to be convinced. To him, he met Santa on Saturday.

Children need to imagine. They need to make-believe. And they need to believe in the magic created by their assumed realities. Exercising imagination is pivotal to a child's cognitive development. It promotes language skills, complex thought, and emotional and social development. 

(Side note: Obviously St. Nick is embraced in our home -- and after meeting Dr. Campbell, I may be a believer again! -- but there are other ways to encourage children's imaginations, such as playing dress-up or reading fairy tales, if parents choose not to promote the belief in fictitious characters.)

Thought for today: There will come a day when your kiddo no longer believes in Santa, the Tooth Fairy, or Mickey Mouse. And today's society is too quick to rush kids through childhood right into adolescence. I don't know about you, but I want my kids to stay kids as long as they can. I want them to believe in the magic of make-believe, to dress up as princesses and pirates, and to revel in the lands of their imaginations. They will be grown soon enough. 

Practicing What I Preach: On Labor Day, after a busy and HOT weekend, my kids and I spent the day relaxing indoors. They were too busy playing to stop for lunch, so I suggested that we play restaurant. I put out a table cloth, lit candles, made menus, and assumed the role of hostess/waitress while my kiddos dressed up (my daughter was a fancy mom; my son was Buzz Lightyear, a firefighter, a baby, and a daddy -- all within an hour's span -- each character requiring an outfit change, of course). It was the funniest, most fun lunch we've had in quite a while. I laughed at their imagination and role plays. The kicker was when my daughter pulled a new cowbell from her purse (a giveaway from the CALS Tailgate) to summons me back to the table to ask me if their meal would be dairy-free! *smile* My son paid for his meal with a kiss and a high-five. My daughter paid with a pink coin and a penny. Gratuity included.