I already posted last year about my feelings about Santa. He just wasn't a big deal in my house growing up, and I don't remember ever thinking of him as an actual, real being. One year, however, my sister and I got a note from Santa. I'm pretty sure I was seven that year, so my sister would have been six. We had asked for My Little Ponies that year, but instead we got a nice note from Santa explaining that so many children had asked for Ponies that we would need to wait until January 25th to get ours. So we played with our other presents and waited patiently. Then, on January 25th, we got our Ponies. I remember now being puzzled by the note because I was pretty sure that Santa wasn't real, but I hadn't really figured out that my parents left the presents. And I'm pretty sure that at that point in my life I didn't recognize my mother's handwriting. I wish I had saved that note because I sure would like to look at it now.