Dear Santa,

Well, the time has come for you to retire for the year back to your workshop. No more ringing bells or mall visits, no more parades or school programs, no more “jingle bells” or seeing mommy kissing you under the mistletoe.
I’ve heard a lot about your deliveries this year. Quite the generous saint you were. Lots of children were happy with their presents and some a little more surprised than even they could know. I chuckle to myself when I remember the lists we sent you from the newspaper a few weeks ago, I helped type them you know, and there were some pretty smart little people making some big requests.
Somehow Christmas just didn’t feel the same this year Santa, so many were gloomy and sad. I know I had some of my own sorrows and fears for a sad and worrisome holiday. We had several empty chairs this year, so many sick people and so many loved ones who left us before we were ready. A lot of us had loved ones working, they were able to sneak in for a quick meal, but had to get back to their duties, and others just waited until their family came home to celebrate together.
Is it possible, Santa, that we’ve forgotten the joy of the season in the midst of our struggles as adults? Have we forgotten the magic of the message of Christmas? Do we not remember that love is the whole point? I wonder, Santa, if we could bring it all back. Despite the tell-tale signs that the season is over, as our trees goes back in neat boxes and the lights no longer flicker on the streets, can we bring back the joy that used to be? Can we perhaps work to love a little harder in the new year? Through the long hours at work, can we find a moment to be kind to a stranger or more helpful to a coworker? Instead of judging, can we plan ahead to give a hand to a struggling neighbor or hug a lonely soul?
I think we can if we try. Perhaps a New Years resolution that won’t be thrown away?
I hope you have a productive new year Santa. If you have time, sprinkle some of your magic love over our homes and hearts for the new year.


‘‘Twas the day after Christmas when all through the town
Shoppers were scuffling and shoving products around
The sales were a plenty, everything marked half-price
And mommas and their kiddies were all dressed quite nice

Daddy was at home eating turkey, ham and the sides
And grandma was still cooking and serving with pride
The little ones were playing with all their new toys
And momma was taking down the tree and looking for joy

When what to their wondering eyes should appear
But a household of memories that could bring plenty of tears
For Johnny had found the albums tucked away in the den
So grandma grabbed the books and then started to grin

“This is what Christmas is!” She exclaimed with a shout
Then took Little Jill’s hands and began to dance about
“It’s memories and traditions and happy family
Not just presents all wrapped and numbered under the tree”

They looked through the photos, laughing with glee
The little ones all assumed “this one is me”
Mom held dad’s hand as she caught a faint tear
For the price tags and bows couldn’t replace the years

“Remember this Susie? The tree we cut down?
You were all but eleven and replaced the star with a crown!”
“What about the nativity?” She cried out with glee
“You played a sweet shepherd…you were only three!”

The kids looked on in awe as they absorbed each photo through
There wasn’t a lot of glamour, nor electronics, who knew?
But they saw the real happiness on each party’s face
And it dawned on them Christmas was real in that place

“The joy of the season,” grandma shared that cold day
“Was not from gifts or hot items that they gave away.
The joy of the season is the reason we love,
It’s the gift from our Father in heaven above.”

Dad now held mom close as tears flowed from her eyes
But the memories of the book were not the only reason she cries
On this day and always she would cherish the love
From the accidental Christmas gift, a reminder from above