Finding Out the Truth

“What do you mean Santa Claus is not real?” I asked as I heard the conversation between two of my classmates next to me. I was so confused, how was it possible that my mother, and my whole family had lied to me about this. For many people it would not have been a big deal, but I was upset with the fact that I could have been lied to.

“Yeah, you didn’t hear that Santa Claus is n… no... not real,” he stuttered. We began to debate, my stubbornness would not allow me to believe him, my stubbornness would not allow me to come to terms with the possibility of him being right. I went with my cousins to their house after school until my mom got home. On our way there I tried to ask them if they knew anything, because they were older than me I thought maybe they would give me some information. All I heard was silence.

“You have to ask your mom about that, I’m not going to say anything,” my older cousin Ian said. I was angry. Everyone was lying to me or keeping information from me. I was always a curious person, getting answers to my questions has always been important to me. I took action, and I stepped in front of him.

“Tell me,” I said sternly.

“No,” he said in return as he moved past me.

“Let’s go! Y'all I am hungry. Ash you can ask your mom when you get home like Ian said,” my other cousin Aldrich said as he advanced past both of us towards the apartment. The next couple of hours I spent doing homework. I wanted to make sure that when I got home I would have all the time to ask my questions. Getting homework done was hard per usual, but today I had the motivation to get it done in a more timely manner. My mother was home some time after I finished my work.

“Hi mommy,” I said as I jumped into her arms. Trying to keep things as normal as possible until we got home was a challenge, but luckily it was only a couple minutes until we were home because we were in the same apartment complex. I convinced her to take me home quickly, and luckily for me she had agreed.

“Why did you want to come home so early?” my mom asked as we walked up the stairs.

“I wanted to ask you some questions,” I said.

“And these questions are so important that they could not wait another hour,” she said as she pulled out the keys out of her purse to unlock the door to the apartment.

“They can’t wait,” I said as I settled my stuff down on the floor in their usual spot.

“Go to the room, let me finish getting settled and then we talk,” she stated as she pointed to the direction of the bedroom. I went just as she asked. I prepared myself for what I was going to say, and sooner than later she was in the room sitting on the bed looking at me with her big eyes as she waited for me to speak.

“Be honest…” I said as I waited for a head nod, to indicate that she would be. “Is Santa Claus real?”

“No,” she said. My heart dropped. I felt betrayed, because to an eight year old telling them Santa Claus is not real is truly heartbreaking.

“How about the Tooth Fairy?”

“No.”

“At least tell me the Easter Bunny is real,” I demanded, but the look in her eyes told me he wasn’t. “He is not real is he?” I asked disappointingly.

“No,” she said softly.

“Why did you lie to me?"

“When you are young you need to enjoy the magical aspect of life. You need to believe in these things so that you don’t grow up too fast, and so you can have fun believing, and imagining,” she said. I tried to take in her words, I tried to understand, and when I tried I did.

“Okay,” I said. “Now be honest with me, NO lying, Okay?”

“Okay,” my mom said.

“Are you lying about anything else, or hiding anything else?” I asked hoping that she would say no but nothing could have prepared me for what she told me next.

“Yes,” she said but when she said it I could tell whatever it was, it was bad.

“What are you still hiding?” I asked, and I waited a couple of seconds before she told me the truth about everything.

“I lied to you about your father. We have always told you that he can’t come visit from Dominican Republic, because he does not have the money, but what you don’t know Is that is not the only reason.”

“He has money to come here?”

“Not exactly. Even if he did have the money to come here he can’t,” she tried to explain. “It’s because he came here with fake papers,” she paused before she could continue. She looked at my face of confusion and apologized. “I’m sorry this is all hard to explain, and especially to you. So let’s start again. He came here illegally, you know what that means right?”

“Yeah,” I responded. “I think,” I added.

“Okay so when he came here illegally it took the police a while to find out. When I say a while I mean a couple of years, a while. In that time we met and had you. After a year of you being born he was arrested,” She looked at me waiting to see how I would react, but all I did was motion for her to continue on with the story. “I did not want you to see him in jail so I waited, and saved up until you were six to take a trip to Dominican Republic where you could see him for the first time in which you could rememb-”

“Why when I was six?” I interrupted.

“I took you when you were six because he spent five years in jail before getting deported, or taken back to Dominican Republic.”

“HE SPENT FIVE YEARS IN JAIL? I CAN’T BELIEVE IT.” I yelled.

“Lower your voice, it was a couple of years ago, things have settled down, Okay?” I nodded.

“Can I go to sleep now? It’s kinda passed my bedtime,” I tried to move past the subject.

“So no questions?” I shook my head in response. I could tell she found it weird that I did not have any questions but I didn’t care because I was honestly tired.

“Goodnight,” I said as I got comfortable on my bed. She gave me a kiss on the head and left. I closed my eyes, and tried to go to sleep. With news like that most children wouldn’t have a smile on their face, but I was happy. I finally knew the truth, I was happy because I did not have to continue asking myself why he left to Dominican Republic in the first place if he did not have the money to come back. I was happy because I knew the truth, but something inside me just did not settle right. I have been spending years learning about families like mine. I have spent years trying to find a way to help other people. I want to go into law enforcement when I am older because I want to make sure that people get the proper justice. No matter what career choice I make I want to make sure that I get to help people whether they are immigrants or not, whether they are documented or not. I want to make a difference because I want the life of people in the United States to be a life worth living. I want to defend those who are weak, and bring justice to those who deserve it. How will I do this? Only the future will tell.