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For the rest of my life, I'll never forget that day when I was 10. It was just a week or so after Christmas and I was happily playing with all of my Christmas loot with my sisters.

Santa had put this awesome Care Bears notepad in my stocking and it even had a sticker on the back of it.  The corner had started to come up on the sticker so I pulled.  And what did I spy underneath?  A bright orange Toys R Us sticker. 

My worst nightmare had come true.  I had been working towards the day little by little.  Asking question about how Santa can possibly do all that he does.  And here was the proof I'd hoped I would never find.

I calmly asked my mom what the deal was.  A quiet conversation began and some tears fell.  I was asked to help my sisters and be a trooper.  I did.

So, how shocked was I that my 6-year-old came home from school the other day and point blank asked me if there was a Santa.  I may be more heartbroken than I was when I was 10. 

I turned her question around and her and asked her what she thought.  She sounded doubtful.  Mostly because some kid at school gave her an earful.  She also questioned the authenticity of the Santas she's come across at a couple of holiday events. 

It makes me sad.  Really sad.  I thought I had a few years left.  Naive?  Maybe. 

In an era where kids know about a lot of the ugliness in the world and aren't sheltered quite so much, should I be surprised?  Probably not but I am.

So Santa, my Christmas wish is that this magic can last just a little bit longer.