I don’t really remember “learning” that there was no santa. I just gradually grew to realize he didn’t exist. I was maybe 7, 8, 9?? Somewhere around there. And it didn’t bother me in the least when I did find out for sure. I DO however remember the magic and wonder of being so little and waking up on Christmas morning to a magically decorated house and presents under the tree, when the day before there had been none. My mom cracked up when I mentioned this. She said "well, that wasn’t because we were trying to make it magic, we just couldn’t afford anything until the very last minute. I had to laugh too, unintentional or not, it remains one of my favorite childhood memories.
My sister and I quickly recreated the “magic” on our own as we got older by getting up after mom and dad had fallen asleep and putting special presents for them under the tree.
Up until we made a new tradition for just us girls about 10 some odd years ago (we don’t do Christmas presents, we have a girls day out the day after with shopping, chick flicks and a fancy lunch), there was always a present from “Santa”. Sometimes something inexpensive and unique, and sometimes to serve as an anonymous gift giver when it was something kind of expensive.
One thing though, my parents didn’t go overboard with dad dressing up as santa and all that stuff. It was way more subtle. Neither did there come a time when they sat me down and said “okay, here’s the deal”. As I said, we just gradually came to understand that he wasn’t really there. At least not as a fat man dressed in a red fur-trimmed suit.
Because IMHO, Santa does exist, the jolly fat man is a mere symbol, the REAL santa is that little bit of magic, and the kid in us, not necessarily just at Christmas time either.
The Easter Bunny? No great loss…he was never that big of a deal in our house anyway. Since we were baptists the emphasis was way more on the biblical easter story. We had egg hunts and so on, but I don’t remember ever believing in the Easter Bunny, even as a really little one. We knew that the church grownups hid the eggs and all. The Easter Bunny was more of a symbol, and for some reason, I remember learning of him that way even when I was little.
At any rate, I think it is all in the way you approach the stories. I have heard just as much anecdotal evidence from kids whose parents were “realists” from the very start, and how bitter and angry they are to this day that they were denied that bit of childhood magic and make believe.
Speaking of which, pretending is a large part of a child’s development and kind of their “job” as a kid. As long as parents aren’t making these mythical characters into some sort of 15 part mini-series complete with actors, stage sets and so on and just keep it light and fun, there is no harm in it.
A rigid adherence to “reality” and truth can be just as harmful to a child and how he feels and remembers things when he grows up.