12/23/2025
When I was a kid, I accidentally destroyed Christmas with a hammer.
Let me explain—because context matters.
Picture young JL. Curious. Literal. Analytical. The kind of child who listened very closely to instructions and took adults at their word. My grandparents told me Santa brings gifts down the chimney. Full stop. No fine print.
So my little mind went to work.
I knew our house. I had seen the basement. I had seen the chimney from the inside. And one very important thing stood out to me: there was no opening. No entry point. No logical access for a fully grown man with toys and reindeer-level responsibilities.
Problem identified.
While my parents were upstairs, I went downstairs to the basement, grabbed a hammer, and started breaking the bricks at the base of the chimney. Not out of rebellion. Not out of anger. Out of responsibility. I was solving a supply chain issue before Christmas morning.
My grandparents and my daddy, Allen Jr., came running downstairs in full panic mode. Dust everywhere. Bricks cracked. Hammer in hand. And I calmly explained: Santa couldn’t get in. I was fixing it so he could bring my gifts.
From their perspective? Chaos. Property damage. A child with far too much initiative.
From my perspective? Excellence. Ex*****on. Leadership under pressure.
That was the moment they told me the truth about Santa.
And no—I never had a “traditional Christmas” after that.
But here’s what I learned, and what I teach now in Saturday School: sometimes we miss the magic because we don’t honor how children actually think. Some kids need stories. Some kids need logic. Some kids need meaning more than mystery.
That Christmas wasn’t ruined. It was reframed.
I didn’t lose wonder. I gained discernment.
And maybe the lesson isn’t about Santa at all—but about learning how to tell the truth in a way that still preserves joy.
At Your Service,
Jessica LaShawn
