Column: The great Christmas gift hide-and-seek, a family tradition

Like many Latino families, we celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve. For the Hernandez family, that tradition simply meant twice the celebration of opening gifts, especially for my siblings and I.

As kids, we always wrote letters to Santa, asking for the toys and things we wanted most at the time. Did he always bring everything on our lists? Of course not. But what I appreciated then and even more now, is how special my parents, my real Santa Claus, made it all feel. They kept the magic alive so well that I believed in him until I was 13 years old.

Christmas is my favorite holiday because of the beautiful memories I carry from my childhood. The night before Christmas Eve, I always left cookies and milk for Santa and made sure a window or door was left open so he and his reindeer could come inside.

I remember lying awake at night, too excited to sleep, my mind racing with thoughts of the gifts waiting for me that morning. I’d wake up sometimes as early as five in the morning. Christmas felt endless and magical.

Once my siblings and I finally got the green light to start looking for our gifts, it became a real game of hide-and-seek. We searched everywhere, under the bed, behind the couch, inside cabinets, near the windows, any small spot that seemed perfect for hiding something special for us.

One Christmas I remember asking Santa for a Barbie laptop. That morning I looked everywhere in the house. I was pretty upset that Santa didn’t bring me one of the gifts I wanted the most, but I understood that maybe Santa didn't have enough money that year.

Throughout my childhood, I was always known as a travesía. One day, months after Christmas, curiosity got the best of me. I climbed onto the stove to see what was hidden in the top cabinets. I opened one and found only cleaning supplies. 

Then I opened another and to my surprise, there it was: a pink laptop case holding the very gift I had asked Santa for. I remember screaming with excitement, running to my parents to tell them that Santa hadn’t forgotten about my gift.

Years later, after my parents finally told me the truth about Santa, they also confessed what really happened that day. The Barbie laptop wasn’t forgotten by Santa at all; they had simply forgotten where they had hidden the gift.