Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I wanted to write you a letter to tell you I still believe in you. Everyone has tried to tell me that you don't exist but I think they have just forgotten what it is like to have the imagination of a child. 

At 44, you would think that I wouldn't still believe in you. The truth is, if I didn't believe in you then I also wouldn't believe in love, compassion, tenderness, empathy, faith and most of all humanity. You have given me so much throughout my life that you have to be real. Right? 

I mean, who could make so many people smile and feel warm and tingly inside even in the harshest of winters' nights. People are so nice this time of year. They open doors, say 'hello' and 'Happy Holidays' while bustling around with shopping bags and screaming kids in tow. That is a miracle right there in itself. Santa, if you aren't real then I have to look at the world with different eyes and I'm just not prepared to do that. 

I don't want to look at the world with hatred, disgust and contempt. I don't want to look at people and see the worst in them. I want to smell the roses not just see them for the flowers they are. I want to think that people are inherently nice and that it takes an act of anger to make them mean and hateful.

Santa, I know I have rambled on and on, and usually, you get a few choppy sentences with a giant list of toys from a wee child instead. I'm hoping you will read my letter with an open mind and open heart like I believe you possess. 


If you are able, for Christmas this year, all I want is: To have the heart of a child and the ability to look at the world with compassion, tenderness and hope.


If you can't bring me this for Christmas, I'll understand. I won't stop believing in you. I'll just keep hoping until next year.


Sincerely,


me


ps.... I really really want a Food Processor :) Come on, you are Santa after all!!