I think that it's an appropriate time of year to share this story. For those under the age of eight, please read no further.
In our family, Santa never wrapped gifts. He simply placed our Christmas bounty around our stockings, wherever we'd lain them the night before. One year, I received a huge doll house from Santa.
A couple years later, that doll house was still on display in our basement, where I'd go to play with it. One day, a member of our ward came over---you know the type... one of those members. The kindof crazy, kindof clueless ones. He saw my doll house and said to me, "I remember when your mother was making that!" I said, "No, my mommy didn't make this." He said, "Oh yes, I remember! She was working on it in the garage!" I said, "No. Santa gave this to me." And suddenly the ward member became a little flustered and no longer tried to convince me that my mother had made it for me.
I took the day to really think about it, but by the end of the day, when I was in bed, I finally figured out that Santa was a lie. I was eight, so it was about time, but still, I started to cry. Captain Fabuloso and El Senor both heard me crying and in a rare moment of kindness, El Senor came into my room and asked me what was the matter. I explained to him that Santa wasn't real and he did his very best to convince me that yes, in fact, Santa was real. He did so well in fact that I was relieved and reassured of the reality of Santa.
Then, El Senor left my room. Captain Fabuloso was waiting in the hall to find out what was the matter. El Senor said to Captain Fabuloso, loud enough for me to hear, and in a rather gruff and impatient voice, "Cicada just figured out that Santa's not real."
My belief in Santa was destroyed, restored, and destroyed again and I cried myself to sleep.