A War of Gifts: An Ender Story by Orson Scott Card

but-”
    “So you’re complaining because they’re being kind to other people and not to you?”
    “Because it’s in the name of-”
    “Santa Claus, I see. Do you believe in Santa Claus, Zeck?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Believe in Santa Claus. Do you think there’s really a jolly fat guy in a red suit who brings gifts?”
    “No.”
    “So Santa Claus isn’t part of your religion.”
    “That’s exactly my point. It’s part of their religion.”
    “I’ve asked. They say it isn’t religion at all. That Santa Claus is merely a cultural figure shared by many of the cultures of Earth.”
    “It’s part of Christmas,” insisted Zeck.
    “And you don’t believe in Christmas.”
    “Not the way most people celebrate it, no.”
    “What do you believe in?”
    “I believe Jesus Christ was born, probably not in December at all anyway, and he grew up to be the Savior of the world.”
    “No Santa Claus.”
    “No.”
    “So Santa Claus isn’t part of Christmas.”
    “Of course he’s part of Christmas,” said Zeck. “For most people.”
    “Just not for you.”
    Zeck nodded.
    “All right, I’ll talk about this to my superiors,” said the counselor. “Do you want to know what I think?
    I think they’re going to tell me it’s just a fad, and they’re going to let it run itself out.”
    “In other words, they’re going to let them keep doing it as long as they want.”
    “They’re children, Zeck. Not many of them are as tenacious as you. They’ll lose interest in it and it will go away. Have patience. Patience isn’t against your religion, is it?”
    “I refuse to take offense at your sarcasm.”
    “I wasn’t being sarcastic.”
    “I can see that you also are a true son to the Father of Lies.” And Zeck got up and left.
    “I’m glad you didn’t take offense,” the counselor called after him. There would be no recourse to authority, obviously. Not directly, anyway. Instead, Zeck went to several of the Arab students, pointing out that the authorities were allowing a Christian custom to be openly practiced. From the first few, he heard the standard litany: “Islam has renounced rivalry between religions. What they do is their business.”
    But Zeck was finally able to get a rise out of a Pakistani kid in Bee Army. Not that Ahmed said anything positive. In fact, he looked completely uninterested, even hostile. Yet Zeck knew that he had struck a nerve. “They say Santa Claus isn’t religious. He’s national. But in your country, is there any difference? Is Muhammad-”
    Ahmed held up one hand and looked away. “It is not for you to say the prophet’s name.”
    “I’m not comparing him to Santa Claus, of course,” said Zeck. Though in fact Zeck had heard his father call Muhammad “Satan’s imitation of a prophet,” which would make Santa and Muhammad pretty well parallel.
    “You have said enough,” said Ahmed. “I’m done with you.”
    Zeck knew that Ahmed had gotten along well enough in Battle School. Their home countries were powerless to insist on religious privileges, so the children in Battle School had been granted exemptions from the obligations of Muslims to pray. But what would he do now that the Christians were getting their Santa Claus? Pakistan had been formed as a Muslim country. There was no distinction between what was national and what was Muslim.
    It apparently took Ahmed two days to organize things, especially because it was impossible to ascertain at any given time which earthside time zone they were in-or directly above-and therefore what times they should pray. They couldn’t even find out what time it was in Mecca and use that schedule. So Ahmed and other Muslim students apparently worked it out so that they would pray during times when they were not in class, and would continue to use the exemption for those students who were in an actual battle at a prayer time.
    The result was a demonstration of piety at breakfast. At first it seemed only a half-dozen