I will never tell Helena that a big jolly man is coming down the chimney to eat cookies and leave her gifts. I won’t tell her that her grandpa Carl is watching over her. Or that there is a man who created everything and lives in the sky. But I will also never stop her from choosing her own path. I don’t know who she will be or what she will believe. But it will be up to her. Authority—a parent or a church or a government—cannot enforce belief. Or lack thereof. She will have to be true to herself. Because “the only sin would be to pretend.”
