Dear Santa

Today is the first snowfall of winter and I have started thinking about Christmas. In my mind I see pictures of Christmases long ago and Christmases more recent. I see the concerts in a one-room school house where we acted out the Christmas story for eager parents and grandparents while babies nestled among coats piled on desks, innocent in their drowsy napping; at home large, full Christmas trees, laden with lights and lovely balls of every colour, lovingly placed by small hands and crowned with a great star at the top; the shopping trips with my Dad to get Mom's presents, all bought in a spirit of generosity and love; Boxing Day parties with our house full of the smell of steaming wet mittens, of the sounds of noses sniffling, of the din of aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, all laughing and talking, happy to sing and celebrate together; the tremor of excitement coursing through my body as I tried to get to sleep because tomorrow was Christmas and if I could just get to sleep, when I woke up you would have come.

More recently, I remember the brightness of Kevin's eyes as he took in the magically-lit tree of Christmas morning with all its wonderful world of joy spread around the room; of Beth's look of amazement and a little confusion as she opened one present after another amidst piles of discarded wrapping paper; of Ron's laughing voice as he looked at his children enjoying what he and I had created for them, shouting "Let's open another one!"; of a look shared between us, over and over at the palpable joy in our little home that morning. Oh, those were some magical moments in our lives and you, Santa, were so much a part of it.

Another aspect of Christmas has always been the way it brings people together in joy, putting aside petty differences to jointly celebrate the birth of a tiny baby two thousand years ago. People on the street can't wait to shout Merry Christmas while rushing to finish their last bit of shopping. Shoppers take time to drop a fiver into the Salvation Army Santa's pail, hoping that others will find peace and happiness in the season as well. Children wait in long lines for their chance to tell Santa their own hopes and dreams, some happily, others overwhelmed, but all feeling that something special is happening.

And so, this Christmas of 2006, when our children are grown, with homes of their own, when the patterns of a lifetime are changing yet again as we eagerly embrace the future, I hope, Santa, that you will continue to bring hope and joy to children of every age, that the world will take a page from your book and adopt a pattern of giving until the number of gifts bewilders the one receiving, that the wonderful freeing spirit of Christmas will write hope and happiness where once was despair, that peace and tranquillity will be given to those in darkness, and that we might all come together as one in our quest for hope and contentment for all the work. Please work on it, Santa, and we will, too.