And Razzleberry Dressing

I’ve had a really hard time finding my Christmas Spirit this year. I’ve been going through the motions, doing what needs to be done, but my heart just hasn’t been in it.

If it weren’t for my girls, I would probably give up on Christmas altogether. I can’t do that…yet. So I carry on with traditions in a sort of Bah Humbug way.

One of our annual traditions is writing letters to Santa. The girls work on their lists, write clever letters, and we put them in Santa’s mailbox in front of the Town Hall. It’s a magical red mail box. When we put our letters in, they are instantly transported to the North Pole. No postage necessary.

With my girls now at the ripe old ages of 11 and 13, I know the tradition of Santa letters may be coming to an end. Since this tradition may go by the wayside soon, I decided I would also write a letter to Santa this year. It was just a quick note to thank him and the elves for their wonderful responses over the last 13 years.

Each year after we send our letters down that magical mail chute, we wait… Every day we check our mailbox for the green business sized envelopes covered with stickers . On the day they come we run to the dining room table, open them up carefully and read them out loud.

The girls received their letters from Santa last week. As always, they were very personal, proving that Santa is real, and he can see what we do. One letter said “I hope you have a great time at Eagle Lake this year”. The other said that their dad is so nice, “Santa would use him as an elf if he weren’t so tall”.

As we read the letters I saw that sparkle in their eyes, that childlike wonder. Reassured, for another year that they are on the Nice List, and that Santa will be coming yet again.

Today when I went to the mailbox I grabbed a handful of envelopes. I put the pile on the table and fanned them out so I could pick out any bills and put them aside for next year.

I was surprised to see another green business envelope with stickers all over it. I thought the elves must have made a mistake. But the address label had my name on it. The letter was for me.

“Girls! I got a letter from Santa! ”
“You did!?! Read it! Read it! Read it out loud.”

And so I did. And by the time I got to the second sentence my eyes had welled up with tears and my voice began to shake. My girls watched and listened in amazement as I blubbered my way through the words.

I’m 46 years old and this is my very first letter from Santa. I felt like the Winter Warlock when he received his first Christmas present. Or the Grinch, when his heart grew three sizes larger.

So it seems that the spirit of Christmas is alive and well after all. It is in a green business envelope sent by Santa’s elves. And apparently, it’s even in the heart of an old Scrooge, like me.

Merry Christmas, everyone.



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