When you are a child, the world is bright, full of optimism. It's only when the end of childhood occurs, do you realize how wonderful childhood was. However, my end of my childhood would come when I was seven. Why at such an early age?

I was seven, and in school, back when math was simple, and everyone was just learning how to read and write. Where you wrote sentences like: "The house is so pretty!" and that was acceptable as a written piece. I always knew at the early age, that I was different. Different though my religion. I was Jewish, while most of my friends were Christians and I used to get jealous about how much more presents my friends got at Christmas, while I only got eight presents for the eight nights of Hanukkah.

Oh yeah, I was spoiled. But then again my friends were jealous about the eight nights I got for presents. So I guess in the end everything worked out. However, I was seven, and all my friends were talking about Christmas, right before we had our winter break. Hanukkah already began, but Christmas didn't. It usually never does during the winter break. I was so excited about Christmas coming, I don't know why. I think it might have been because Santa Claus is really real, and would come to give gifts to everyone (and at that time Santa Clause was real!)

Christmas came and went, and no presents came to me. What happened, did Santa Claus forget me? Now, I went to my friends and some of them said I might have been a bad girl, and I remember that bad kids got coal. So at that moment I realized my friends were wrong, Santa Claus does not exist. I could have told them that Santa Claus was not real, but everyone would argue with me about how Santa Claus was real, and I would have argued back and tried to win my argument. (I remember winning my argument that red is not a girl color, while blue is not a boy color. Those two colors are my favorite colors, and I am a girl too. I believe I won argument, though I don't remember what I said, silly arguments on the playground).

I decided to not tell my friends, I saw their innocence, their belief in Santa Claus as real. They deserved to believe that. I chose at that moment not to believe. And I realized how I grew up then. My eyes lost its twinkle. Years past, my friends don't believe in Santa Claus anymore, but the little girls that I babysit do, and I see their innocence in their eyes. Kids are really lucky sometimes.