Dear diary,

I'm quite upset today. I don't understand why adults lie to us, children? Do they think we are stupid?

Just as I do every year, this morning at breakfast I started writing my letter to Santa Claus. I always like to be early because I know - well, knew - how busy it must be around Christmas. Mom wasn't in a great mood, she had burned our toasts and was running out of time to go to work. Maybe that's why, when I asked for help with the word "Lapland" (I thought it was Lap Land...) she just dismissed me with this cruel "Carol, you are now too old to believe in Santa. Santa doesn't exist."

I stopped writing to stare at her while my chin dropped. She cupped her hands...

"I'm sorry, Carol..." she mumbled.

"What do you mean, mom?"

"I mean that all the presents you've been getting are from dad and I." she replied, blushing.

I couldn't believe this. If that was the case, how come none of my friends had ever shared it with me?

"You are eight now, Carol. It's time to know the truth."

I went to school in absolute silence, feeling the weight of carrying a big secret.

"Guess what I found just now, Nora!" I rushed to my best friend as soon as I saw her.

"What?"

"Santa doesn't exist!" I let out, opening my eyes wide, expecting her to be as shocked as I had been.

But Nora just shrugged her shoulders.

"Yes, I know. I found out last year."

"Really? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you'd be as sad as I was and didn't want to disappoint you."

Oh dear diary... So much for my big revelation. At lunch time when I spoke to the other kids, they all laughed at me. They already knew, some actually never really believed in Santa.

I felt such a fool. :-( But the worst was feeling that I had been lied to. Why do adults tell children about Santa when they know he doesn't exist?

Your friend,

Carol