Letters from Santa 2014
December 26, 2014
my dad Santa Claus writes the kids letters. These letters are one of my favorite parts of Christmas. Enjoy!
From the Desk of Santa Claus
December 24, 2014
Well, here we are together again, on your fifth Christmas. After five Christmas Eve visits (and four years of checking up on you) I hope my visit is expected. I look forward to it all year.
As you know, I live at the North Pole. I got there because I am a citizen of all countries of the world, and the North Pole is one of the few places on earth that everyone owns together. A North Pole residence comes with a few perks, like my own post office, and its gets quite busy when the elves arrive after Thanksgiving. (Most people don’t know it, but the elves are contractors who rotate with the seasons. As soon as they finish with my gift list they move to China to make Chinese New Year lanterns and dragons, then on to Guatemala to make pinatas for Cinco de Mayo, then to Germany where they help with Oktoberfest.) But mostly the North Pole is cold. And dark. And lonely. It’s a place I never expected to live, and would not, except for what I have been called to be.
What makes it tolerable is the lights. Even during those long stretches when the sun is hidden, the sky is alive with dancing, streaming lights. Scientists explain that charged particles from the sun are interacting with the earth’s magnetic field. I prefer the observation of the prophet Isaiah, that “the people walking in darkness have seen a great light.” Isaiah’s light, of course, is the promise of Emmanuel, God With Us. God is with us, Grayson, you and me.
I know you never expected to live with feeding tubes and seizures, hospital confinements and retching, except for what you have been called to be. I know it’s hard, and dark, and lonely, but I also know that you, too, see the lights. They stream when your mother sings to you and your father boosts you and your sister hugs you. They dance when Mary comforts you and Grammie kisses you and Granddaddy pushes you up the hill at the ranch. God is with us, Grayson, you and me. The Christ Child who was born this night makes it so.
So, Grayson, know that I was here this evening, as I will be every year. Know that there will always be something in my sack for you. I think of you often, every time I see the lights.
What’s with the staying awake so long? You know my whole itinerary is based on children being asleep when I arrive! I had to make a mid-course correction over Luxembourg and swap the order of two Canadian provinces while you were resisting bed time.
I guess it’s because you are just like me – places to go, things to do. Let’s see, since last year you have been walking and talking, counting and talking, singing the family song and talking, and naming your colors, shapes, and animals. Not to mention talking.
The Christ Child who was born this night also did these things. The Bible says he “grew in wisdom and stature”. God made sure of it because that Child was born to be the savior of the world.
Charlotte, you too were born for a wonderful purpose. I see it in your energy and your intelligence and the twinkle that is always in your eyes. I see it in your curiosity and your persistence. I see it in the laughter that follows wherever you go. But mostly I see it in your heart. You are a loving young lady who knows she is loved. You were given to us all by the Architect of the Universe who delights in your enthusiasm as His plans for you unfold.
As you might expect, Mrs. Claus and I must be very selective about the pictures we put on our refrigerator. One reason is that we receive so many pictures, another is that we do not need a very large refrigerator at the North Pole. We will always make a place, however, for the picture of you hugging your brother Grayson. You know that Grayson is a special child of God, and you are special for being such a caring, loving sister.
When your parents read this to you it will be Christmas day, and another visit from Santa and his reindeer will have been accomplished. Soon the food will be eaten and the decorations put away, but I know that the memories will remain. Until next year, Charlotte, I’ll be watching as you grow in wisdom and stature.