Dear Santa

 

One of the highlights of my childhood Christmases was the opportunity to see Santa.  Sightings happened more often than being able to visit and once we moved out into the country well even sightings were unlikely to occur. 

However, there was always mail.  I could write a letter to Santa each year and my brothers and I generally did until we were too big to believe any longer.  I don't know what happened to the letters we wrote each year.  We put them in an envelope and some years; we were given a stamp to go on that envelope.  As a rule, we handed the letters over to Daddy, because he worked at the post office. As far as we were concerned, we had an absolute guarantee of having our letters delivered safely to the North Pole!

Our local newspaper still posts letters to Santa from the children at the primary school.  I love reading through them.  You get rather a good idea of what sorts of things children look forward to receiving as gifts each year.  Now and then a child surprises you.  "Please make mama well once more."  "Please bring my sister...." naming gifts that the sister wants while mentioning nothing at all for themselves.  "Please Santa, bring Daddy home safe."   Those letters will bend your heart.  Already that child has grown beyond self and is looking in a more mature direction of life. 

A few years ago, in the midst of a writing class it was suggested that a letter to Santa should be written once more.  We weren't to open it, however, until the next year when December came around.  The purpose was to see if Santa provided what we'd most desired from life.  

I don't remember ever opening my letter.  I must have mislaid it, or it was so far from the facts of what life had been that year that I discarded it and went on my disappointed way.  Whichever outcome it might have been, this year I am writing a letter to Santa once more.

Do you remember your childhood letters to Santa?  Where you told him you'd been good, and only a little bit bad and how sorry you were that you hadn't been good all of the time?  If as a child we are compelled to look at our behavior, I suppose as adults, even those who feel rather silly, we could not do any less that take a look back at how we have behaved.  

Then we ask for what we want...And there is something to think about.  Do we want to just ask for material things?  Or just spiritual and less tangible things?  A new desk and chair or faith enough to get through the year regardless of what lies ahead?   World peace?  A mix of both?

It's unlikely I'll ask for world peace.  Not because I think it is impossible to have, but because I do not think globally.  I tend to think locally of family and community.   And right now, I suppose my family is about as settled as it might be...Nothing to wish for there.

I am allowing my inner child to write the letter this year.  She may ask for what she wants, regardless of how silly, impossible or trivial it might be.  Because let's face it, Santa is the saint for children. 

I don't know just what this little girl plans to ask for.  I'll know only when I pick up my pen and write it down on paper.  I'm curious, I must admit that much.  I haven't allowed that little girl to have a voice in so long that I've no idea what may be on her mind in her deepest heart of hearts.  But you better believe I am listening.  After all, it's the adult me who gets to play Santa.

When I'm all done, I'm going to put it in a special envelope in the Art Journal I'm working on.  I plan to come back to it in December of 2026 and we'll see how many of the gifts requested came to fruition over the year ahead.  

Dear Santa...

P. S.  I addressed it properly to Santa at the North Pole with a Christmas seal stamp noting it was to be sent via Penguin Post and Reindeer Express.  I pasted the sealed envelope into my Christmas junk journal with a note to not be opened until December 2, 2026.  I can't wait to see what the year delivers!