Growing up as a kid in a household that didn’t go to church, the only training I received about Christianity were the Davey and Goliath Easter specials or when Linus would read the passage from Luke in the Charlie Brown Christmas special. Religion wasn’t a focus for us.

In Grade 3 we were given a copy of the Gideon’s New Testament, Psalms and Proverbs. I remember the little red book; it was like a rite of passage, because I got one like my sister did when she was in that grade. I’m pretty sure they stopped doing that not long afterwards, probably around the same time they also stopped saying the Lord’s Prayer in school.

So really, when I was growing up, the only comparison to God we had was Santa Claus. Don’t take that sacrilegiously or anything, we were kids, and that’s the closest we could think of. Here was someone who could see what you did all year, knew whether you were being good or bad even though you couldn’t see them, and if you were good rewarded you with something you wanted. I suppose that is a pretty simple comparison, easy enough for a child to understand. There would be talk on the playground of those who did and didn’t believe in Santa, and often  those who did believe had to keep it quiet.

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