To atheist parents during this "holiest" of seasons:

[kag]

When I married my husband one thing that we did not have to overcome was a difference in religions. He was an avowed atheist, having grown up in a fairly non-religious household; I was a new agnostic, having been raised VERY Catholic but become disenchanted after moving away from my family.

When we decided to have kids we didn't really discuss what to say to them about gods and faith and religion, and all those things they would begin hearing about once they started elementary school. I think we just figured religion was like potty training--we knew it would be messy work, but we'd wait till they were ready.

And sure enough, once they began talking to other kids, the inevitable questions came home as regularly as art projects: Why don't we go to church? Why does Seth wear that funny hat? What's that weird thing Mary does with her hands before she eats? Johnny said I'm going to hell, am I? What's Hell? And rather than batting them away with platitudes like "We'll talk when you're older" or "Go ask Dad," we took each question and discussed it the way we had discussed everything in their lives--by telling them the truth.

Now, trying to teach a six-year-old about Limbo is tough enough when you BELIEVE in Limbo. So none of these questions were exactly easy to answer. It took some work, some discussion, some repetition, and a VAST amount of the patience of Job. (Sorry, couldn't resist.) But slowly, they began to understand that other people just believed different things than their parents, and that that didn't make them stupid or weird or wrong. Throughout the process we tried hard not to be judgmental, just to teach them what we knew to be true, and to try to explain why so many people believed differently.

When they got into middle school some of this discussion backfired a little. My son got in trouble in sixth grade for wearing a sign around his neck that read "The End is Near." One boy, whose Bible-school-teaching mother was a close friend of mine, began to cry nervously, and another kept ripping the sign off of his neck, "forcing" him to make a new one. Needless to say, much family discussion ensued.

The toughest discussion came after the mother of one of my daughter's third-grade classmates was killed in a tragic bike accident. The whole school was devastated. My daughter and I went to the memorial service, and I could see in her face the questions piling up like so much dirty laundry. Once the initial pain subsided, she got around to asking them. At first I was afraid she had stumped me, and I would have to give in and send her to see her father. But I remember the words forming in my head almost simultaneously as I spoke them, "It's very sad, and it's okay to cry for your friend who has lost someone so dear. But it is precisely BECAUSE it is SO tragic that people get comfort from their faith. It's much easier to believe that your friend's mother is sitting on a magical mountain, eating bonbons, and smiling down at us, than to admit that we just don't know."

I am the first to say that raising kids in a "non-believing" household is a challenge. And the winter holidays can be the most challenging time of all. Every Christmas Carol, every Salvation Army bucket, every manger in someone's front yard prompts new questions: What's a virgin? (Be ready for this one; it comes sooner than you think.) What is Hanukkah, and how do you spell it? Does this mean I can't sing Christmas carols? And from my science-minded son, How can a star hang over one spot on the Earth?

As they have gotten older, the discussions are less one-sided. My kids have formed opinions and beliefs of their own, and have become more tolerant of others'. My ninth-grade son is an avowed Secular Humanist, a "belief system" I had never heard of until he found it on the web. (Thank God for the Internet, so to speak.) My daughter, now twelve, will tell you confidently that she doesn't prescribe to a particular religion, but she believes in reincarnation. The two of them have even begun engaging each other, sometimes even respectfully, about their own beliefs. And they go out of their way to learn about religions of the world. I find it a healthy curiosity, and try to encourage it.

Now, I'm no super-mom. And I know full well that my children are not perfect. They watch way too much television, they claim to be allergic to all green food, and they hide whenever someone starts cleaning. But on this one subject I feel like I have advice to give to new parents who might be in a similar position. Your kids are smarter than you think. Don't be afraid to tell them what you believe and what you don't. Anything else is hypocrisy, and they'll see right through it.